emptynesters | TEST DRIVE :003

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test drive

TEST DRIVE :003

WELCOME to the test drive and thank you for your interest in Station 72! To allow players to experiment with game mechanics, flexibility and to account for the fact that our TDMs tend to span a number of months to make up for our low player turnover, we've put together a game-themes random scenario generator for you to play with. Mix and match prompts at will, pick your own broodmates, experiment with abilities and specializations, talk to each other and maybe make up some pre-established CR, and generally play around however you like.

This test drive is not game canon, so take this chance to go nuts! Current in game players are also welcome to make top levels here and aren't beholden to their in-game characterizations (so if it makes more sense to be a broodmates of a character test driving, feel free to do so for the sake of these threads).

For the full experience, we strongly encourage players to write up a short blurb about what their fellow characters might know about them either through shared time on the Station or through the Nest mental link. Handy links can be found at the bottom of this entry if you have any questions and APPLICATIONS are always open if you decide you'd like to jump into the game proper. If you're having trouble coming up with a symbiote ability for your character for use in either the TDM or for your application, we have an ability workshop post located HERE.

(Mix and match these prompts at will to create your own TDM scenario - there's no obligation to use something from every category. Feel free to make up anything that isn't covered in the prompt if it lends to your playing.)

     THE PLACE

1. STATION 72 consists of massive, alien sprawl. While large sections of the Station might be mistaken for a Station manufactured for use by humanoid beings - the hangar is relatively standard other than its massive size, the Life Support deck with its series of living quarters seems normal enough (if you ignore the part where none of the rooms have doors on them), and there's even a Jai Alai court -, beyond the most well trod paths the Station quickly cedes to the utterly bizarre. Corridors twist and loop back in on themselves, great verandas overlook massive empty rooms, ramps because stairs which lead to dead ends. It's easy to get lost if you don't have a destination in mind. Strangely enough, if you do know where you want to be, the Station's twisting paths will eventually get you there as long as you keep your goal firmly in mind. Knowing that is another thing entirely.

2. THE MELTED WORLD was once beautiful. Then again, maybe it's always been a toughened old rock, but at some point the planet called Ojan was glassed in the throes of a brutal war. The planet's entire surface has become a twisted, mirror-like substance by whatever super hot biological weapon was poured into it. The material isn't actually that horrible, consuming black; it perfectly reflects the empty, quiet space that surrounds Ojan: a foreboding testament to a war long forgotten. But what lies below the surface of the desolated world?

3. THE SCEPTRE is a fabulous building structure suspended from an asteroid in orbit around a planet. The Sceptre pierces down through the atmosphere of the planet below and over the course of the asteroid's orbit, The Sceptre has an opportunity to pass through every habitat and climate the world below it has to offer. The Sceptre is sleek and beautiful (or it is? Maybe it's fallen into disrepair and only ghosts remain) and its massive windows look out onto a varied, verdant world (or do they? What state is the planet below in, exactly? Has it been so thoroughly paved over that the atmosphere is the only place left to build?).

4. PENTARA PRIME is the ancient, meandering capital of the lush garden world of Pentara. Unlike most cities, it is a large, verdant sprawl, made up eighteen clustered centers - groups of low, elegant stone buildings, strung together by winding roads populated with quietly humming pods moving people from spoke to spoke. The capital is built around leisure, not production and there are far more gardens and orchards than there are buildings. The sun is heavy and low, and the air is still and buzzes with the sounds of fat-bodied insects. It’s so still, so calm. It seems empty and there is something unsettling in the quiet. --Or is it? Maybe it's bustling with energy, just as vibrant and delightful as it seems on the surface.

5. CHORIUS is not quite a planet. Not anymore. Once long ago it was, but over time it has changed - been stripped clean of every valuable mineral, every scrap of rare metal, and eventually even of atmosphere. The core has cooled perceptibly and now even its rotation period has slowed dramatically. Now it is a made up of shaped carbon and steel that bridge over the stripped surface of the planet, pulsing with energies, shielded from the harshness of the sun by a webbed dome that keeps the electric scented air from escaping into the space around it. Here nothing is wasted. Everything - everyone - is recycled and reconstituted into new forms. Every one of the cities changes daily, reformatted to meet new goals and new needs. It is a dead world filled with the living. But whether it is thriving or dying is hard to say - and what the newest change will bring with it is even more difficult to guess.

6. SPACE, THE FINAL FRONTIER. There's a lot of it in every direction.

     THE PEOPLE

1. THE OUTLANDERS consist of small bands of settlers and explorers who have quested out into the unknown, the remote, and the dessicated parts of this galaxy looking for either new opportunities or forgotten mysteries. They are mostly upright though only vaguely humanoid, remnants of a civilization driven from their own failing world, each group is bound only by their own codes and personal laws. They're traders and nomads, largely peaceful but wary of the harsh, dangerous environment and beings they've crossed paths with. Don't cross a deal with an Outlander - they'll make you regret it.

2. A VERITABLE MELTING POT, the beings of this metropolis are as vibrant and diverse as is imaginable. These are a people developed by a myriad of cultural influences, technological insights, overlapping interests and clashing societal norms shaken up and spit out into something that more or less works as long as there's a whole lot of bureaucracy to keep it in order. And boy is there a lot of that. Mind your p's and q's - someone might haul you in for questioning if you cause too much of an uproar.

3. A RUINED GHOST is all that remains of this ancient civilization. Once there were people here leading brilliant or lives, or quiet ones, but all that's left are their ruined structures, old half-functional consoles and signs of lives abruptly arrested. What destroyed these people is initially unclear, but their extinction appears to have been absolute. --Or was it?

4. THE COURT is elegant and beautiful and perfect. Every being is shrouded in delicate, gauzy fabrics layered so densely as to obscure their elongated squirming bodies from head to toe. Each step sounds like a bell ringing from the the small metal plates at the bottom of their soft slippers; every gloved finger glints with small golden threads. The queens sweep through their secret insect gardens and their royal technomancers walk the halls with the glitter of hologlyphs sparkling at their fingertips and in the wake of their sweeping robes.

5. THE GREAT MILITARY is larger even than it’s name suggests. Every member of their civilization plays some part in it, every person has a rank, every family an insignia. The structure is rigid and inflexible and all-encompassing, and it has made them into ferocious enemies. They have been at war for as long as they have been a people, and their battle will never end, because if it did, they would go with it. The harshness of their life is painted on the sharp planes of their grey faces, but there is an indomitability and a pride to them that is hidden by their stern, unchanging expressions.

6. SCUM ALWAYS LIVES at the edge of the universe. Beware the dark of the space and the seedier underbelly of cities or the shadows of forgotten planet - pirates make their living there and these are desperate times, friend.

     THE OBJECTIVE

1. GET UP from where you've fallen. Or get up from the nesting deck pod where you've just woken up on the Station. Or get up to Level 672 where there's a ship waiting for you. Or get up from the knee you've taken before this alien queen. Get up.

2. THE RESCUE might be saving a city from a disaster engineered by an enemy force, playing bodyguard for a government official, or liberating a rare artifact from a crumbling structure.

3. IT'S A RACE AGAINST TIME to collect the relic you've been sent to retrieve from the collapsing ruin. Or to make your way free of the military blockade. Or to make your escape from a crumbling world.

4. THE MASQUERADE is all a cover - for an assassination. For a heist. For a political coup.

5. INFILTRATE you know what you need. And you know who has it. With a little help you’ll be able to break into the place no one is supposed to go. You could sneak in… or smash in. Or maybe just talk your way past every little problem.

6. COME ON AND SLAM and welcome to the jam. It’s a ritual or maybe it’s just a pastime, but whichever it is there are rules and there is a goal. There’s probably even points. If you’re lucky, you just might score one. Avoid the spiky pits? Or maybe the thrown fruit. Or perhaps just the other team...

6. EXPLORE and uncover the secrets this place have to offer. There’s a mystery here if you know where to find it. And all you have to do is look.

7. DON'T DIE is easy to say and hard to do when you're under the guns of an armada. Or when you're trying to outwit spies. Or when the ground is literally crumbling under your feet.

     INSPIRATION

NAVIGATION • PREMISE • FAQ • RULES • GLOSSARY • APPLICATIONS • SYMBIOTIC SKILLS • ABILITY POINTS

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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Because there's nothing much else to do but practice. Train himself for what might come, make himself stronger, more capable. And that's where he is now. Making sure his physical self is at its peak readiness.

Even if he doesn't know how to train his mind just yet. Not without throwing more people into chaos.

But... speaking of minds... the sense of someone new presses in. He can't tell specifics. But it's an unknown sense. Like the feeling of a room suddenly being occupied, where it was empty, before.

(Hello?)

Gently called out, across the link. From behind his usual mental barriers of stars and half-clouded skies. Meant to protect everyone else. To keep his thoughts locked down tight.

1-#-1 \\station 72, pre-mission, get up\\ [contains spoilers]

[Keith opens his eyes for the first time in what might be forever. His heart pounds in his chest as he blinks away the excess slime coating his lids. For someone who chose to be here, who chose to give his life, there's a resounding sense of defeat, disappointment.

Sliding from the pod is easy enough; the slime provides more than enough lubricant to keep his hood from catching. Facing the reality he now serves, though, weighs him down. Leaving in the middle of a fight, not knowing if his sacrifice did anything, drags down his soul, slows his feet as he stumbles towards what he hopes is a shower of some kind to wash himself off.

He gave up everything leaving the paladins, and now again. What is he supposed to do?]

3-3-6 \\sceptre-ghost-explore\\

[After a month on the station, his bones have lightened, his spirit lifted, and purpose renewed. They, as the Nest, have missions, to save innocents from the Enemy, just like Voltron and the Blades. That and he can work with Shiro and Pidge again, without needing to try and lead or be something he isn't. Instead of necessary friends-come-family, they have become his hubs to the rest of the Nest, his shelters, his true family among the spread of acquaintances.

The Sceptre lives up to its name, but in visuals only. For all its grandeur, there seems to be no one home. Cathaway wouldn't send them down to an abandoned planet for no reason, would she? Or maybe it's a data mining operation, but that didn't sound like the case. It sounded like some kind of rescue operation, but no one exists to rescue.

So, for now, he and a team have set to exploring some of the lower levels that don't glimmer as brightly, that perhaps hold more secrets in the dark.]

[There's a lot of slime in this hallway. Which is a great realization when you step in it barefoot. Either Annie's been here or ... there's new arrivals around. He figures the latter, pulling the hoodie all the way on as he steps out of the alcove he'd been dozing in.]

[The sight of a dark figure a little ways down the hall gets his attention.]

Hey-!

[In greeting. Already slotting his brain away behind his walls, behind the stars. Because being new here means being raw and confused. No sense in making it harder.] Need a hand?

[Keith continues to try and orient himself, to raise himself from the emotional depths he didn't realize he'd lose himself in. When he took down the shield, he thought that would be it. Sure, some strange guy asked Keith to come with him, but he thought that meant, well, the afterlife. Maybe part of the afterlife is dealing with what happened in ones' lifetime, to come to terms with what his life meant.

That is until he hears a familiar voice. He turns and in an instant his dread descends into grief. No. No no no. He was supposed to stop the explosion by puncturing the shield. Shiro wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to be dead like him.

His feet carry him, his mind buzzing and heart aching.] What're you--- [He almost chokes. He can't have failed, not after all that, after leaving the paladins and ramming the shield.] What're you doing here?

Keith?

[Like seeing Pidge when he'd first woke. It's like a punch. Painful and shamefully glad to hear that voice. Know that voice. It's all he can do to keep from parting his shields, tearing down the stars and pulling his teammate in. It's too hard not to. And his feet move before they check in with his brain. Reaching out for him in the physical. Disbelief and some kind of awful relief on his face.]

[The walls stay. Flickering things of stars and planets and clouds. But he can't not reach out for him. Not when the emotions on the edges of those stars feel like they do.]

Hey. It's okay. You're okay.

[Fall into old patterns, old habits that couldn't die even if he tried.]

I've been here for a long time. And I know that sounds impossible. But it's... how this place works.

A long time? [Keith's voice cracks, pulled too tight in his throat from the grief shaking him. That can't be possible. He heard Shiro over the transmission maybe sixty ticks before he died. There's no way. Not unless the Shiro that escaped a Galra prison ship that couldn't bond with the black lion immediately wasn't Shiro. That Shiro died in the conflict with Zarkon. That's the only way--- no, that's impossible. The Galra couldn't just clone Shiro could they?

Instead of moving in closer, Keith pulls his knife from its holster.] Who are you? Where am I?

[His words are heavy in his throat, tearing through him like the blade in his hand. He could have been captured instead of killed. Or any number of other options. But Shiro living here for a long time is impossible.]

[If anyone ever asked him a worst-case scenario for seeing one of his teammates again, this would probably be it. This would probably be number one on the list. The last time he'd seen his friend, they'd been infiltrating the hub. He'd been with Allura, Keith had been with the others. Pidge remembered more. But she'd... she hadn't been like this.]

[Why... this intense of a reaction?]

[He doesn't move. He goes still, and keeps his hands steady. In front of him, where it's clear they're not going to try for anything.]

What's... the last thing you remember happening? [Keep your voice steady, keep yourself calm. Controlled.]

Which question do you need me to answer first?

[Keith doesn't like that answer, but for a different reason than he initially expects. No, of course Shiro doesn't know what happened. None of the paladins did. There's no need for them to know who took down the shield or how. Unless rebel forces told them. But if he did take down the shield, then Shiro wouldn't be standing here in front of him in this afterlife.

Continuing to brandish the knife, he furrows his brows, still not convinced.] What's the last thing you remember happening?

[Information doesn't come without a cost; Keith knows that better than anyone. He thinks of Regris and the trap Keith should have seen from a mile away.]

Allura and I infiltrated the ship. You and the others were taking care of the command hub.

[Still steady. Still controlled. Because anything else might make him crack here. Because how long has he waited for a familiar face? How long has it been since he heard any of their voices? It's tearing something in his chest.]

[So close to what he'd wanted.]

[But Keith needs an explanation. Needs him in control. Something's happened neither he or Pidge knows about, or something she didn't tell him.]

Pidge remembers wormholes. After we fought to get Allura back. She says everyone fell through them.

But I don't remember that ever happening.

[That... that is from a year ago now. Even Pidge's memories are old. Is she sparing Shiro the horrible truth about who Keith is, about what he is? No, that doesn't sound like Pidge, but... but Allura hated him when she found out. Maybe Pidge felt the same way and never expressed it. Even then, there was no explanation for the enormous gaps in their memories.

If Pidge and Shiro are both somehow different versions of themselves- like the alternate reality, like Sven- he might be able to handle that, but if they aren't? If they aren't, what does that mean? What does this Shiro know? About anything, really? He doesn't know about the Blades, about him leaving the paladins, about him failing as a leader, about him ramming the shield.

What's he supposed to do with all that? He's kept Blades missions secret before, but these are his fellow paladins his fam-- former family.]

You don't know about Naxella? [His voice is suddenly much quieter, more fragile. The knife shakes in his hand where he holds it.]

I've never heard that name before.

[He doesn't want to overwhelm him. Doesn't want to drown him. But he has to know -- Keith has to know the complete sincerity of what he's saying now. So the walls lower. Just a little. Just enough to show him. If there's a lie in anything he just said, it will be made clear.]

[His hands shift. Slowly. Carefully. Every movement obvious -- turning to touch his forearm. Lightly. His voice lowering from controlled and cautious to something more raw.]

All I remember is... losing Allura. And then I was brought here. [And he swallows, trying to meet Keith's eyes.] In... exchange for saving you. All of you.

I've been here ever since. I swear, Keith. I've been here.

[All of the air seems to be sucked out of his lungs as he stares at Shiro. That's... not possible. Shiro isn't joking either, there's a tickle in the back of his mind that tells him Shiro isn't joking. Shiro doesn't know any of it past the hub. The two of them are practically strangers, little more than acquaintances, but he can't bring himself to believe it.

Or, rather, doesn't want to believe it. Despite leaving the paladins of his own volition, despite emotionally distancing himself the best he could, he couldn't deny that they were a family he always wanted, needed even. Without them and the Blades both, he feels adrift and he can't tell Shiro any of it.]

How? [Though Shiro already answered this question.] Are you dead, too?

Same way you are.

[How ever the Nest brings them here. Whichever way that works. That's how. Getting too into it means... thinking too hard about what was done to Lavellan. And that, he refuses to share. That doesn't need to be said.]

[Besides.]

[too]

[It's just one word. And it knocks the air out of his lungs. The ground out from his feet. He wonders, distantly, if the rushing in his ears is in his imagination or if it's real.]

What... what do you mean... too?

[The hand on Keith's wrist goes cold. Shaking. No. Don't answer it. Don't say it. Don't mean what you said.]

[Same way you are. That doesn't comfort Keith at all. Does that mean Shiro was killed in the attack on the hub? Then who came back to them? Who did Keith trust like a brother? Who went with him to the Trials? His breath catches in his throat and then Shiro continues. For a moment, he doesn't understand Shiro's reaction. If Shiro died, if he came to wherever this is the same way then he should know exactly what Keith means. Except Shiro doesn't.

Shiro's hand shakes on his wrist. There's... something wrong here. Something off that he can't put his finger on. If Shiro is dead, this shouldn't be a surprise.

Keith furrows his brows.]

You're not? [Dead, he means.]

No!

[He doesn't mean to let it crackle out the way it does. The way the faint feeling of vibration rolls behind it. He's letting too much slip. Letting his guard too far down. But he had to have misunderstood.]

[For a moment, he pauses. Forcibly collecting himself. Making his hand steady on Keith's arm. Making himself calmer.]

No. No one here is dead, Keith. That isn't what this is.

[There. That's it. That's got to be the reason why. He'd just jumped to a conclusion. Control regained, calm asserted itself. Even if he still wants to reach out and pull his teammate over for a better greeting than a hand clasp.]

It's pure instinct that makes Matt recoil a little, still on his hands and knees, breathing in, holding it, then letting the air out. Just that movement, the automatic one of his lungs, is enough to drain him, to make his startled movement little more than a twitch. He feels the stars, the almost-clouds, and there's something familiar in them, something he knows.

But he doesn't. He doesn't know anything here, except that he can't trust anything, anyone. So his mind reacts, a flare of something bright and fiery, a comet streaking to earth, rejecting the gentle call.

(Don't! Stay out of my head!)

Easy to do. It's like a step back, mentally. The feeling of stars easing. As if a screen is pulled over them. He's pretty sure he has a bead on where this person is. And...

And that shout sounds familiar. Like something he'd yelled, too, in those first chaotic hours. He can't not try.

"Okay. Okay. Can you hear me like this?" New guy, he will play Marco Polo with you right now if he has to. "I won't get in your head. I promise."

[Oh. Shiro's answer doesn't ease Keith's confusion. If this isn't the afterlife, some strange way to force him to reflect, then who accompanied him to the Trials? Who accepted him when no one else would? Who came back from the Galra a second time and insisted Keith lead in a position he failed?

On his arm, Shiro's hand steadies and Keith works to follow suit. Adrenaline still pumps through his veins, his death mere minutes ago, still too heavy on his mind to ignore. No one here is dead, except him. Maybe this is some weird alternate dimension.

He doesn't know and he's pulled too tight, stretched too thin emotionally.

In truth, though, he's been a noone for a long, long time. Being with the paladins was the best year of his life, despite the struggle last few months of struggle. For all that he purports himself as a loner, as someone who works best alone, he sure did like his new family.

Which was why he had to do what he did, why Voltron had to leave, why he had to stay, why he had to give the rebels a chance. Every Blade knew what their life meant when they joined up. Keith knew.

He swallows, looking up at Shiro. That tickle at the back of his mind grows into more of a prick, a heavy dread that he can't shake and can't source.

If he cares about the other paladins, he won't burden them with this. If he wants to be a leader, he won't bring down others around him.]

Sorry. I'm just... [confused? wired? on edge?] tired.

Better. That's better. It doesn't push, doesn't try to force itself into the cracks where Matt is vulnerable and tired and weak. That's unfamiliar, because it always has before, back in -- back before.

The difference is enough to make him lift his head a little, breathing in, breathing out. Listening to the voice, echoing somewhere close enough for his ears to pick up on. "Yeah." It's hoarse, shouted, like he's been screaming for hours.

Maybe he has. "Yeah, I hear you."

"Okay. Take it easy. Can you walk? Move? I'll come to you if you can't."

They've gotten all kinds here. It wouldn't be a stretch to think maybe someone was badly hurt on arrival. From the sound of the voice, that could very well be true. He keeps his own calm, measured. Like he's supposed to be.

Approaching the sound of the voice, and already mentally preparing to reach out to Sam. Just in case.

"You're going to be all right." A beat, not even a conscious pause, before he adds: "I know it's hard, it's loud -- but you can do this."

[ didn't even know he was gone

EXCUSE YOU HE'S HARD TO MISS ]

Shit.

[ he picks his head up; not one to mope, not when there's still things to do. space to explore, fights to throw himself into. people to protect - even if those people are a pack of foreign weirdos that are suddenly all up in his business like they've got any right to him. there's a thing in his head, they told him. it binds him to a group, but it doesn't mean he's got to be cohesive. or to accept it, and oh boy oh boy, does he reject them all. viciously, physically. he wasn't one to hang out with his classmates, what makes this buncha' fucks think he's gonna be magically agreeable?

which brings him to his next question: ] Did our weirdo-cryptic "saviors" give you psychic powers too?

[ he punts one of the light, plastic balls across the room. listens to it bounce along, and then he mounts the fence in front of the monstrous-looking battlecars. ]

S'like they knew how to trick us into agreeing. Do-or-die. Or other people'd hurt, instead.

[As much as he tries not to, as much as he keeps his own thoughts shuttered down tight, he can't help but feel those nerves. That vibrating sense of unease and tension. Someone he trusts is suffering. Somewhere inside. Someone like family feels like a rubber band, ready to snap.]

[His grip tightens a fraction. In what he means to be reassurance.]

It's okay.

[And he means it. From the core of him, he means it. If it isn't okay now, he will make it so. By whatever means necessary. He'll let down the walls. Just enough for that to come through. Just enough to hope it passes between them. It will be okay.]

You don't have to apologize. It's a lot to process. And trying to figure out the timeline thing can wait. [Until you're ready, goes unsaid.]

[Because this is his friend. This is part of their team. Trusting him goes without saying. Whatever this is, he'll hear it when Keith is ready to say it.]

[He tries for a smile, then, something flickering and fragile and relieved. All the confusion and weirdness aside, internal selfishness aside, it's good to see him. Good to see someone from home again. If Keith doesn't protest, tense or pull away, he's... just going to hug him. Here in the hallway.]

We've really missed you.

[By this time, the knife between them has dropped to Keith’s side. There’s the distinct sensation of someone- Shiro?- in his head, telling him everything will be alright, but how can anyone know that? Not Keith, not when there are secrets to keep from someone he’d grown to trust like a brother, who supported him when he was lower than low. He can’t rely on that support here, no matter what Shiro says, no matter what that voice in the back of his mind echoes.

Still, Keith swallows as much of his ego down as possible. It’s okay he’s dead. It’s okay Shiro doesn’t know. Be a leader.

He doesn’t think he can do this, any of it: keeping secrets, remaining calm. Shiro offers a smile, but it’s not quite reassuring. Neither is his teammate’s words.

When he left the paladins, he’d felt loved, despite he ridt, but every occasion they spoke after was all business, if they spoke at all. Maybe they held his failure against him, or his apparent abandonment of the team. Shiro pulls him into a hug; however, Keith can’t bring himself to believe the sentiment behind the gesture. To open himself up would be too painful, too much for him right now.

Luckily, he’s covered in slime and can use that as an excuse.] Think I should wash up first.

[Most of his words are lost to Shiro’s shoulder, but he figures his lack of hug in return should also translate his message.]

Th' fuck you think I'm bringing it to you for?

[ "does it look important" wow ]

You want this to be your show, you better run it right.

[ meaning: if he's bothering to give you his oh-so-valuable time ( and effort! ), you better be willing to do more than just ignore him when he's actually deigning to help. Bakugo pushes the data around on the pad he's pulled out of the bowls of an old server-storage system, finds what he was eyeballing -- what he'd found and was looking for a damn second pair of eyes for, and literally shoves it into Juno's space. right into his arms. disrupts all his papers and everything. like a horrible, awful cat that wants attention. ]

Three years ago, the terminal went flumsy. Started shedding files and backups like it was molting season and someone got too itchy.

[ he knew a few kids with scales okay ]

I'm not a datahound. How about you make yourself useful and use that Qu-- that weird eye of yours?

Oh, that's right. We got the fuckin' ace of cold reads with us, don't we.

[ biting; with his words come teeth, bursts of heat.

honestly, he thinks he should have been at the door, but he's seen Locke Lamora in action and the guy's a goddamn useless noodle in a fight. better him for the quick escape, than him having to fight his way straight through a room full of big, nasty, rough-looking aliens that remind him a little of one of the neighborhood kids that used to get dropped off at afterschool activities while her mom and dad sat through court case after court case because her aunt just couldn't keep her gnarly face out of criminal activity. she was a hell of a brawler, though.

which brings him back to focus: ] YOU KEEP CALM. Dick.

[ enjoy that blast buddy ]

She's cold. [ don't look at him he didn't just take one of her four hands into his own and test her pulse. he's not worried. he's strategic. ] She can't die in there, can she?

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Page 15 of 27

TEST DRIVE :003

station because this is gonna be the most painful

keith kogane \\ voltron \\ open (spoilers for season 4)

BODY SLAMS NUMBER 1

ayoooooo also spoilers etc etc

RIP

rip in pepperons

how dare you do this to me

the pepperons are too good to resist

i mean fair

a-ha! gotchu

how dare

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i welcome the pain!!

i'm dying squirtle

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I THOUGHT I REPLIED TO THIS ALREADY DHFKS

no prob homeslice!

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forces myself to write things exCUSE YOU