TEST DRIVE :003

[onemind]

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 )

Comments

[sistershoggoth]

I tried to get my fuckin' brood to play dodgeball with me on Station, ok. Guess why that sucked?

[ She raises an eyebrow, and does not wait for him to guess: ]

They could both fucking teleport. It was the absolute fucking worst.

[ Swaying lazily, heel to toe, ]

Maybe they'll be so impressed with our amazing team sports they'll give up the goods, right? Somebody will own up to being an enemy douchelord if we win the game fairly?

[ She's... joking... ]

[frakkincylons]

( You know, even botching that still sounds a lot safer than screwing up alien government building infiltration. )

[ he's pretty sure this just means getting dead. no pressure or anything. sam's reaction to nervousness and high stress situations is generally to laugh at the fact he's probably going to die. says the 2,000 year old robot-man, who's died like 3 times now. it's complicated, okay?

squirming through the tunnel, sam finally makes it to the grate he'll have to ease open and hop down from, hoping the motion activated security within the server room has been deactivate by now. else there will be some lasers shooting him in places that he shouldn't have lasers going through. this is a stupid plan, rings through sam's head, as he's looking down at the server room below, wishing he'd said that before agreeing to be right here, right now, doing exactly this. ]

( Alright, buckle up, kids, here we go. Keep the get-away car running. ) [ there is, of course, not a get-away car. more like a get-away teleporter? semantics, you get the idea. carefully easing the grate open, he pulls a match pack from his pocket, and flicks it into the room below, watching and waiting for the defenses to activate. or, hopefully, not activate. ]

[whereabout]

( It was a good break between monster exterminations and shutting down military coups. )

[ Which, given the last couple of missions they've been on here, means they're overdue for something nice and low-stakes and calm, because the monsters back home still weren't as nasty as the Enemy and this mission is definitely at least on the same tier as the coup.

He quiets down quickly, though; when the chips are down and the stakes are up, Joshua's never had trouble zeroing in on exactly what he needs to be focused on - and shutting up his mental voice makes it much easier to listen for the ones in the real world.

Nothing so far...but the real test, naturally, will be if the defenses go off and give security something to talk about. ]

[frakkincylons]

Not without more stuff in the middle it won't.

[ Sam smirks, still able to be amused while there's ice between them here, pointing the pliers at the weaving between the hoop. sour is far from the worst he's had ilde directed at him before, and nothing will really touch on the fits kylo ren had with him, but still, neither of them could hurt like kara's lashing out did. he can stomach ilde's distance and irritation, he'll still be here. it's where he belongs, and more over, it's where he wantsto be. ]

Here. If you're going for the tech vibe. [ Digging through a nearby pile of salvage and pieces he'd replaced from the ship's console, he pulls up a tangle of wires, setting it near her project. sam doesn't actually have any wires inside him, so it may not fit her purpose, but he still remembers the days he'd have to cut open his hand to press a wire like this under his skin, before he could access the hybrid pieces of his mind. thankfully, he'd trained past that. ] It's more a placebo thing anyway. Dreams are basically your subconscious firing off, right? So, power of belief, all that.

[frakkincylons]

Seriously? [ said with an uuuggghh sort of tone. that's cheating. ] Anything teleporting or super speed should be illegal in sports, that's just common sense, right?

[ come on, people, don't be pricks. sam's yet to meet a teleporter in the hive, though, he thinks, but maybe his memory just sucks. learning it on a court would not make the best impression.

he snorts, chuckling, and thinks he'd much rather be doing the dodgeball thing than hanging out watching whatever this native sport thing is supposed to be. ]

But yeah, sure, diplomacy through dodgeballs to the face, I could see it. [ this is The Sarcasm, but in good nature, because he's sam anders. ] Then maybe we can all hold hands and defeat the enemy douchelord with the power of friendship.

[earthborn]

( So's Pidge. What's your excuse? )

[Shepard's mind is a sensation of laughter. Boy, you have no idea. She likes this asshole; he's not afraid to fire back.]

( When you find that cruise ship, we'll just have to see who comes out on top. Drop already, there's a time-limit on this thing. )

[erbier]

Our dreams are much more powerful than that here.

[ Did he need to be reminded of the symbiote, or was that a reminder for herself. Feeling out the edge of still being connected to him. She can keep out so many of the other hosts without a thought, but he was never like that. He has never let her keep him out. Her subconscious fires: and knows him. And somehow he must know her, despite all the things that have come and gone in his absence. It's irritating, something she can't control in her tightly controlled little web of gestures and falsehoods. She can't lie to him.

She accepts the offering of wires, and just as easily accepts them into her weaving. They bring some color and alternative texture to the thing, and she likes that about it. What she does it not exactly about creating something pretty so much as the act itself, using what is at hand. ]

[sistershoggoth]

You're laughing at me, but we are actually supposed to beat the enemy with our fuckin' combined powers.

[ And friendship. And shit. ]

But I mean, aren't we supposed to judge their entire civilization based on who gets picked first to be on their dodgeball team?

[ Oh, no she's not done spinning this bullshit yarn. She's grinning, clearly entirely too pleased with herself and this joke. ]

[frakkincylons]

( I'm 6'3" and Pidge is a teenage girl. )

[ which of those do you expect to fit better in an air vent? spoilers, not the former professional sports player.

he's lingering at the grate he's supposed to drop from, let's out a heavy sigh before squirming forward, pushing the grate open, and dropping a cigarette down, making sure it doesn't get laser sliced to pieces. once it seems at least somewhat safe, sam moves to follow, trying his best to let his feet drop quietly on the tile floor below. ]

( Any chance you're willing to give me the number for what's left on that timer? I work better under pressure and the imminent death threat, I guess. ) [ pacing over, he skims through the server columns, and if Shepard's peering through his eyes now, they're moving rapidly, faster than human minds are meant to process. That would also be the reason he's in here, rather than Pidge. Pidge is great, but she isn't a walking computer, it's nice when you don't have to type to hack into something - just think. once he finds the central server he's looking for, he chimes back in, as his fingers pry the front panel open. ] ( You'll want to seal your mind up after this, it's gonna be loud. I'll come knocking when I'm done. )

[earthborn]

( I can take it if you can. Keeping communications open is more important. )

[Shepard is very confident about this fact, for some reason. What that reason might be, she does not share, not even in the natural hints that interconnected memory tends to sneak into shared thoughts-- shielding by disciplined self-control, rather than simple barriers to entry.]

( Forty seconds is the longest you'll have to get through, either way. I'll force a third on the return trip if you need it, but if they don't notice it then they're not exactly doing their jobs. ) [To whit: it'll devolve into an explosive gunfight. Just like every other covert op that Shepard works on. This statistical fact she does not hide.] ( Think you can handle it? )

[frakkincylons]

( Yeah, that’s the problem. I can’t. )

[ there’s no lie or over-exaggeration in it, and Sam’s never been one to conceal things, least of all when it means injury to someone else, so Shepard gets a few snapshot glimpses of the full damage the hybrid state does to an advanced cylon mind, already built with an immense kind of processing power in comparison to a human brain. ]

( This power shreds any mind connected to it. I’ll have it on for 20 seconds max, then be passed out for 10 seconds max - the last 10 I have to use to get my ass outta here. ) [ the upside - sam can sift through the entire government archival database, find needed documents and transfer them in 20 seconds or less, impossible for even an phenomenally talented human code breaker to do, but he needs a backup for this reason exactly. the symbiote is the only thing that keeps sam able to come back as anything more than a vegetable from the ability, but it still takes a heavy toll, sam falling momentarily comatose after each use, and while he’s been able to shorten that fallout period, the symbiote still needs time to take him entirely offline before he can repair. ]

( One of us needs to stay awake through this. Make sense? )

[earthborn]

[There is a certain pause as Shepard digests this information. There is a firm, dispassionate sense that somewhere, someone has just been signed up to be punched in the mouth. It might not even be Sam who catches the natural byproduct of this particular mood. But it's going to be someone.]

( Alright, after this, we're gonna have a talk about what constitutes the words, "quick pre-op brief." Just because we're all mind-readers, doesn't mean you don't have to bring this shit up. )

[She's very tired, Sam.]

( Call time, when you're ready, then. )

hybrid tags are always huge fff sry

[frakkincylons]

( I'll print you up a pamphlet on it next time, promise. ) [ there's a mental snort of amusement that probably shouldn't be there, but sam's always had that issue with finding something funny in those 'we're all going to die' situations. there's a good chance it will be same that catches the punch in the mouth for this. anyway, now that we're all caught up, down to business. ]

( Calling time. Seal up, see you in 30 seconds. )

[ as sam jumps down from the vent, shepard has a couple seconds to drop the mental link to him before it gets flooded with the cacophony of all chaotic and ordered pieces of the universe, the stretch of time from the big bang to the frozen out death of all things. crushed down like being sucked and warped through a black hole, into the space between sam's skull, screeching through like an unholy, alien roar. shepard likely can't hear it unless she has some other device monitoring sound in the room, but once sam's fingertips touch the wiring and circuit boards inside the server panel, he starts to mutter, low and constant, monotone and utterly not there. ]

The makers of the makers fall before the child. Accessing defense system. Handshake, handshake. Second level clear. Accepting scan. Love outlasts death. Apotheosis was the beginning before the beginning. Devices on alert. Find the hand that lies in the shadow of the light. Progress reports arriving. Data-font synchronization complete. End of line. The reborn Commander starves for patience.

[ zonk, and out he goes, crumbling to the floor of the server room like a boneless, lifeless body, eyes not even shutting entirely, no light behind them. ten seconds stretch on, mental timer running somewhere in the fractured ruins of his mind as it rebuilds. 4, 3, 2, 1... Sam snaps back to life, jumping up to reach for the vent he dropped down from. ] ( Got it, chief. Let's boogie. )

I love it, please continue to write me novels

[earthborn]

[Shepard, ever the glutton for risk, doesn't quite break off the connection, doesn't even shield until the last possible moment-- and even then... It's like the Prothean Cypher, alien and fiercely hot, boiling through with more information than one mind can handle all at once. Eventually, silence resumes.]

( Point of order: It's Commander, not chief. )

[Her mental voice is dry; wrong Navy, Sam. That's not a space rank, where she's from.]

( Get a move on, Anders. Tick Tock. )

[forgive]

[ They haven't talked about it explicitly — not that there has been a good moment to talk about what exactly happened with Amaru — but the connection and understanding is there. Like it always has, even as far back as that day by the pool. It's something that's not easily expressed with words but having a shared experience can make the burden feel less heavy some days.

Kate doesn't realize anyone is standing there until a hand comes into view, and all of the surrounding sounds come back in a rushing wave at full volume and her eyes snap up to his. Relief floods her when she sees it's Richie, and she starts to relax. Taking a deep, sharp breath, she eventually takes his hand to pull herself to her feet. ]

Thanks. I tripped... [ It's a lame excuse, though true, and she isn't expecting Richie to take it at face value. ]

[ When she drops his hand, she starts to brush off the back of her pants. Her attention is still somewhat distracted, taking stock of what's around them. Or what rather isn't. ]

You haven't seen anyone else around, have you?

crawls back here 10 years later like the terminator

[memita]

[ The question draws a gentle huff of amusement from her. As if he thinks she gets to decide what humans do. Cute. (Maybe someday, she will.) ]

I wouldn't say anything.

[ She isn't stupid. And she isn't a trouble-maker. She is well-behaved, the way martyrs are religious and soldiers patriotic, if soldiers or martyrs could be stripped down to those barest qualities and nothing more. It's a precarious sort of thing, to build a person on so narrow a base, but she has always had excellent balance. ]

If you're looking for a heretic, you'll have better luck with Officer KD6-3.7. [ Prim, as if their nest mate's full serial number is a mark of shame she'd just like to make sure everyone remembers. She isn't the only one who isn't real.

Her boot bumps dully against something solid. Hm. Light wouldn't hurt. ] Could I have the batteries from your flashlight, please?

Station 72

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ It's a common theme in the Nest, inability to sleep, nightmares. One of the downsides of sharing a mental link with a couple of dozen people, especially when your connection is strong - if you didn't have nightmares before, you're probably gonna pick up a few here.

And with the kind of lives it seems most of the people who end up here had before, well, most of them already have a few of their own.

Sam's no exception, though these days his own are mostly under control. Still, he's awake, padding around in one of the little kitchen areas on the Station and stir frying some vegetables that look pretty much nothing like anything on Earth.

Neither does the four winged, six-eyed blueish grey bird perched on the back of one of the chairs, but Sam's talking to it affectionately anyway, at least until he can feel the presence of another Host nearby. Then he focuses his attention on her, both mentally and physically. ]

Hey. Can't sleep either, huh. [ He gestures at her with a spatula. ] Hungry?

newt | the maze runner (films)

[limped]

( Playing Newt from the films as opposed to the books. I'm playing with the idea of him having environmental adaption/control, so like bringing the environment of the Scorch with him (dry and lightning-y) etc. )

Station 72

[ Newt's dreams were never as kind as he'd like them to be, more so now, after experiencing grievers, or the crank that nearly ripped his face off with his teeth. There was a lot to have nightmare about. Tonight, it seems, the lightning is what gets him, the same lightning that had struck Minho and gone out of its way to strike them too, like they'd angered some vengeful god by existing. It's the loud sound of an electrical strike that has him awake immediately and to his feet. Who knows how many times it's happened already, Newt doesn't have the ability to really tell, as his dream was full of lightning.

The air is dry and tense as wide brown eyes scan around him in an attempt to find his attacker. Panic and fear race through him. Nothing happens. He swallows hard, throat almost too dry for even saliva to help. The hairs on the back of his neck and his arms are standing up, and he needs to clear his mind.

His limp isn't nearly as bad as it used to be, but after sleeping, his ankle's a bit cramped up and it's obvious in the way he walks. He doesn't seem bothered by it, he can walk easier and faster than he could in a long time. He probably looks like a crazy person, blond hair sticking every which way, brown eyes flickering over things a bit too quickly. He scratches at his scalp, and it's not the same odd occasional itch that felt more like it was in his brain than his skin. ]

The Rescue

[ The city is foreign to him, though, to be fair, most would be. What isn't foreign to him is herding people away from the sound of gun fire -- well, if guns where energy weapons. He's holding onto the hand of a small child as he runs, urging people to go this way and that. It reminds him of the Maze. It reminds him of the Scorch.

His limp isn't as bad as it used to be, but he can't run fast at all dragging a child behind him. He can hear familiar voices yelling ahead of him, and most of them are saying to hurry up. Newt stops and scoops the smaller being up, running far easier now.

It isn't until a shot passes right by him that he decides he needs to make a sharp left turn, ducking behind a building and nearly bumping into someone. ]

Wildcard

[ Hit me with your best shot??? ]

Thomas | The Maze Runner (novels)

[shuckit]

[[ OOC; so thomas is a traumatized teenager from the pandemic future that's been basically tortured for science to find a cure and he's pissed and jumpy/neurotic as fuck now. while he's from the books rather than the movies, the films do give a really good vibe and feel for the world so a quick idea of what kind of crap is in thomas's head, so here's the first movie trailer and the second movie trailer. For the power, I'm playing with the idea of Biokinesis for now. ]]

［Ａ］ ＳＴＡＴＩＯＮ ７２ － ＥＸＰＬＯＲＩＮＧ；

[ The mud and chalky, charcoal debris from explosions still clinging to his old, worm boots leaves a small but stark trail behind Thomas against the pure, clinical white of the Station hallways, and his footsteps seem to echo eerily as he wanders the halls. Honestly, he wishes it were louder, enough to cover up the incessant murmur in the back of his head - his brood, the rest of the nest, whatever else Thomas is sure was shoved into his brain while he was asleep. A story that's far, far too familiar to him, enough it makes him sick.

Puking isn't productive, though, and it isn't going to help him get out of here and back to the others. He was an idiot to follow that woman here, but that's already done and finished. Time to focus on the present - figuring out where the hell he is and getting out of here. That's what takes him through the twists and turns of the station, through the gardens and the training rooms, and finally to the rec room, where he heads for the small library, glancing a moment at the other hosts lingering, before he starts to page through things. Eventually, he speaks up. ]

Has anyone actually seen this Enemy they're talking about us having to fight? [ He's half speaking to the others in the room, and half just muttering it to himself, at least that first part. ] Is there any proof, besides what those two tell us of anything?

[ The next, he looks up from the book in his hands to glance back at the others, voice more clear and eyes darting from one to the other. ] What about the symbiote? They say removing it from our heads will kill us, but has anyone tried it?

［Ｂ］ ＴＨＥ ＳＣＥＰＴＲＥ ＋ ＭＡＳＱＵＥＲＡＤＥ；

[ It's his first mission, first time away from the Station, and Thomas only barely came along for the ride, mostly because sitting at the Station clearly wasn't going to get him anywhere as far as progress towards going home goes. But all of this sets a deep rift of unease in him. It's a political coup they're supposed to be subverting here, at this beautiful party, in a city that seems peaceful and prosperous, healthy, from the few days he's been here. Of course, that's only been just a few days, and they haven't seen deeper yet. It doesn't stop his mind from running wild, though. ]

( They're inside our heads, how're we supposed to trust anything we hear or see or feel or think? ) [ Of course, Thomas doesn't really intend for this stream of consciousness to leak out to everyone else, but that's the problem with Thomas's brain - it's always on doubletime, and it's loud. Still fresh into the Nest, he hasn't quite learned how to control it. Or maybe he's only meaning this to go to one person, but it ends up broadcast through all of them. Great, Tommy, shut the hell up. ]

( Maybe we're helping these people, yeah, but maybe we're massacring them. You know? ) [ He goes on, as he moves through the Masquerade, elegant mask obscuring his face but making him feel suffocated in the process, eyes darting, jittery, from door to door. ] ( How do we know we're not the actual Enemy here, and whatever we're fighting is just trying to stop the symbiote from spreading through the rest of the universe? )

[ Maybe this political coup needs to happen. The last time he'd seen one, he'd been leading it, after all, and for a damn good reason. ]

［Ｃ］ ＳＣＵＭ ＡＬＷＡＹＳ ＬＩＶＥＳ；

[ A native they've just ran down and captured had done something truly horrific, maybe set of a bomb in a crowded building, filled with innocent people. Maybe they were refugees in this scum hole of a planet, and someone was trying to make a statement. Unfortunately for them, Thomas is an incredibly good runner, and he's the first to catch the fleeing culprit, tackling them down, with hands digging into the alien's shoulders, grappling with his arms.

He's shouting, and it would've been clear long before he'd taken off after the bomber that Thomas is Upset. Losing it kind of upset, ready to murder kind of upset, and regardless of whatever's being screamed in his head from broodmates or the rest of the Nest, he's dead to it. He's screaming at this criminal, things like why would you and all those people and they were just trying to survive. He's near dead to what's happening as well - where Thomas's hands are touching the bomber's skin, blackness spreads out through their veins, spidery and deathly. The criminal is writhing and yelping, and Thomas doesn't so much as notice until he spits up a fountain of black, inky liquid, eyes bloodshot and skin sickly pale. Thankfully, someone pulls Thomas off, and it shakes him enough to notice what he's doing. ]

I'm-- I'm sorry. [ He sputters out, after a long few moments of shaking with rage, looking over their prisoner in horror. He jerks, moving away from whoever'd pulled him up, and holds his hands together against his chest, like he's trying to control them there, keep them far from anyone else. ] God, I'm so sorry. Shuck, I can't touch them again, somebody else --

[ Apparently his Biokinesis is too deeply rooted in his emotions, so letting Thomas touch this person again means executing them, probably. ]

c

[limped]

[ What Thomas had been doing to the alien, made Newt's blood run cold, and there was screaming, from Thomas, from other people in their heads -- from the criminal. Newt had seen what Thomas was doing before, seen it back from where he was from. Seen person after person with thick black veins, and wild bloodshot eyes, chomping teeth leaking black ink everywhere. Hell, Newt had been terrified he was going to be one of those creatures, get bitten and turn...

His grip on the other Glader is strong, he's manhandled Thomas before, trying to pull him out of danger. The difference this time is that Thomas is the danger. When the shuckiest shuck calms down just a fraction, he's spitting out an apology and all but yanking away. Newt doesn't care, he's dealt with worse behaviour. Despite the space Thomas tries to put between them, Newt reaches out and pats his shoulder, before moving closer to the bomber, worry and curiosity both fighting for dominance. ] Bloody hell, ya nearly killed them, shuckface. But they're still breathin'. [ It's said to at least confirm the alien's life, and to cow Thomas just the slightest bit.

Newt grabs the Alien's arm, grip strong but not nearly as devastating as what Thomas had done. He doesn't want to have to fun after them again if they try to make another break for it. He doesn't want to admit it, but it scares him. ] What are we supposed to do with 'em? [ Obviously not kill them, but Newt had just chased after Thomas on instinct alone, he wasn't really sure what the etiquette is in this situation. It was probably a good thing he used to be one of the better Runners, or things might have been a lot worse. Warm brown eyes are on his friend, watching him carefully. Sure the slinthead deserved to die, but it isn't up to them. ]

station 72

[shuckit]

[ Bad dreams are hardly anything new to Thomas, or to Newt, but being awake and experiencing it second hand through a freaky, sci-fi mental bond? Yeah, that's new. They've been holing up in the same room together, unwilling to split apart. They both remember being held at the WICKED compound, how they were split up and tortured. How they refused to be forced into anything else, and plotted their way out in the room they caged them in together, after.

Regardless of what hell they're put in, corny as it sounds, as long as they stick together they can figure or fight their way out. And Thomas absolutely refuses to lose Newt again, not for so much as a second. His mind hasn't been able to shut down for a single second since they woke up in this place, running through ideas over and over, unable to stop trying to solve the puzzle. Thankfully Newt's been able to block him out enough to get some sleep, even if disturbed by memories of the hell they struggled through in the Scorch.

The first crack of lightning is purely in his head, but Thomas jumps nonetheless, hair on the back of his neck standing up, and heart pounding with adrenaline, as if it made any kind of sense that a freak storm could break out here and now, in the middle of space, indoors. Once he realizes it's only Newt's nightmare, he watches his best friend's curled up body in the bed across the small room, wondering if he should wake him up or let him get sleep, even if it's bad sleep. Thomas tries to just stomach it, hope it'll pass on its own, and Newt will find peace again.

And then an actual freak storm breaks out, here, now, in the middle of space, indoors. Thankfully the bolt goes into the floor between their beds, rather than directly into Thomas face, but that doesn't stop him from slamming himself back against the wall, yelping in surprise. Even still, he rushes over to Newt's side, practically leaping from one bed to the other, and is ready to shake him awake before he rouses on his own. ]

Newt, NewtNewt, it's okay, man, slim it. [ Thomas's hands are at his shoulders, squeezing. ] You alright?

[limped]

[ Thomas startles him awake, and for once he's really glad that he's learned to be as quiet as possible in fear than to scream. His body jolts up as if Thomas's own touch has shocked him, and he narrowly misses headbutting his friend. His brain is still screaming FEAR FEAR PANIC RUN, probably not doing anything for the rest of the Nest. Newt's half asleep brain assumes Thomas is a Crank for mere seconds. Electricity tears through the room again, this time far closer to Thomas, but doesn't strike him. It doesn't help Newt any at all, if anything it terrifies him more. He assumes he was slow to wake up from a dream, his brain still saying there's electricity storms when there isn't. A rough hand grasps at one of Thomas's wrists, hard enough to hurt, probably even bruise later. It's in an attempt to ground himself.

The air is too dry, the electricity prevalent in it. Is he still sleeping? No he's certainly awake, at least he hopes he is. No more strikes happen, and the room is silent, aside from their breathing, a sound he's grown used to after running, and running, and running.

His heart hurts, and he imagines it's from the sudden burst of adrenaline that his dream and that Thomas stirred up. He's glad Thomas is there, and it shows in the way he lets out a breath and all but falls back down into his bed. ] Yeah, buggin' fantastic. [ It's sarcasm, but it's not sharp, however his voice is a lot more rough than usual. His fear ebbs out into frustration, with himself, with the situation they're in, but surprisingly not with Thomas, even if he did try to drive the older boy insane with the incessant thoughts that filtered through to Newt like he was in front row.

He doesn't bother to even apologise for 'waking' Thomas, it's clear from how clear his eyes are that he's been awake. ] Thanks, Tommy. [ A quirk of his lips that doesn't quite meet his tired and scared eyes accompanies the words, but he means them. The dreams of the Scorch were the worst -- Newt was a little more aloof in the ones of the Maze, even the ones where his leg was freshly busted and the hopelessness could nearly choke him.

His hand releases Thomas's wrist after his heart begins to slow. He's always been used to being the only one that could know what he was thinking, now that other people can -- that Thomas can, well, it's a bit unnerving. ]

Sidon | Zelda | motivation sushi man

[fishounen]

[ooc: mental power -- inspire courage. If necessary, Sidon can cheer you on, and buff up your ability. Or make you feel braver or generally better about yourself. He'll cheer you on and the world will feel okay! For a while.]

THE STATION ; POOL
[There's something swimming in your pool, everyone. Something very big. And bright red. Occasionally a fin breaks the surface, a very shark-like fin. Either way, it's swimming in speedy circles. Almost building a whirlpool.]

[Once the whole of the pool swirls around at a frantic pace, the pool's occupant leaps up, doing a backflip and landing in a perfect dive.]

[Then its head pops up.]

[And the ... person?? Creature?? Smiles at you. The mental imagery from them is like looking into a sunlit pool. Bright, glittering, and deep. Almost painfully cheerful.]

Hello! How wonderful to see someone else here! Did you come to enjoy the pool as well?



WILDCARD ; create your own adventure
[Anything on the missions you want to do??]

[shuckit]

[ He recognizes the rapid spreading disease just as well as Newt does, would known the signs of it anywhere, and it's terrifying. Makes his blood run cold even though it withdraws and vanishes the second Thomas's hands leave the alien's skin. He's shaking, and he can feel that fear amplified through Newt too, the second he pulls him away. ]

I didn't mean to. [ Thomas murmurs, in a terrified daze, hands held to his chest as if they burn, body meek. The last time or so that he'd utterly lost it like this, he hadn't really felt too bad for it after. Not directly after, not like this. It's the power itself, and he can still feel that fear of it echoing in Newt, even as he leads the bomber away. Speaking up louder, he feels horrible for having scared his friend like that. ] I'm sorry, Newt, I swear I didn't mean to.

[ One of those moments you wish you could quit and load up the last save point, before it happened. But it's done and they need to move this guy somewhere now. Thomas clear his throat, keeping a few paces to the side of them, but following. ] I, um. Back to the barracks, I guess? See if the others can get answers out of them?

[ Thomas tells himself now the he'll stay out of it, make sure not to touch the prisoner again, but let's be real, he's going to be standing in the corner hissing interrupting questions the whole time, because he's Thomas. ]

[shuckit]

[ Once the second bolt nearly turns Thomas into a big slab of bacon, the hand against Newt's chest activates his ability, gradually urging his body to produce more serotonin, pumping the calming chemical through him in a high dose to combat the adrenaline and bring Newt down from his panic. At least to the point Thomas isn't about to die by hanging out in the room with him, would be nice. He won't use the ability on him for anything any less than life or death. It's clear through the mental link that he's doing it as well, so it isn't as if it's a surprise, and the moment Newt flops back to the mattress and stops trying to break his wrist, Thomas eases off it.

Letting out a slow sigh, his hand squeezes at Newt's shoulder, relaxing, but he doesn't move from where he's sitting on the edge of the bed. ]

Yeah. No problem. [ He huffs a wry laugh, dry as he typically tends to be. ] Thanks for not frying me.

[ Truly, it's nothing he feels like he should have gratitude for - Newt's his best friend, of course he'd run towards him rather than away if something crazy was going down. He has, despite being told not to. Because he's stubborn like that, but that line of thought he steers from quickly - their memories are different, and Newt doesn't need all that's in Thomas's head inside his too. Not that, anyway. ] I still have nightmares about it too, you know. The Scorch. The storms. The shuck Underground. Don't think those'll ever go away.