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emptynesters2017-04-04 08:54 am
onemind) wrote in emptynesters2017-04-04 08:54 am
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TEST DRIVE :003
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
i. - collides with this
[ he's tired of inaction; all this scraping and scrambling to find proof, when all they've got to do is Handle That Shit? it's eating into their timeline, which is dwindling second after second that they waste in this room. while he might have his hands full of papers, thumbing through old financial records to match them off with another list - with the attention span of a volatile teenager ( which he is ), he's barely reading them. it's more of a courtesy, at this point. ]
You gotta' fucking stop, we're not gonna' find anything.
[ with that, he slaps a handful of papers down on the table and squares his shoulders, just in case he's gonna be FOUGHT on this ]
It's a waste of time, we should be tailing this gonna-be-victim and getting the drop on whoever wants to hurt 'em. What's a bunch of paperwork gonna do to stop the killer? What, we're gonna make a bulletproof vest out of it?
opens arms to catch u
Stopping one person won't change anything.
[ that's why he's done what he does for as long as he has, after all. there's always something else to come, and usually something bigger behind the things already there. instead of looming over Bakugo, who looks ready for a fight, he tears himself away and moves briskly to the bookcase on the other side of the room, knowing that an argument in close quarters is just going to waste time. he needs to figure this out. not that he's going to drop it; he goes on, louder and more sharply: ]
We need to know why if we're gonna end this for good. [ he has one hand braced on top of the short bookcase, his fingers tapping on it with restless energy. ] What if we stop one killer, and another one comes along the next day because we didn't get to the source of it? If you really want a person dead, you don't just give up when your first plan doesn't pan out.
no subject
[ there's little room in his repertoire for detective work; he's come along because it moves him one step closer to where he wants to be, and that happens to be In The Thick of It. if someone's going to get hurt, he wants to be there, not here. there, where he can actually do something about it instead of sifting through dusty files in the hopes that someone was stupid enough or lazy enough to leave a clue. this sort of work is for someone else, someone lesser. ]
Tch, says you.
[ but, he picks up a sheaf of papers and begins to tear through them, flinging the useless stuff into a haphazard pile behind him with rising frustration, before he throws the remainder to the floor at his feet with a muffled 'thmp' ]
You're the one living in a world of "what ifs" instead of a world of action. If someone's going to be hurt, you don't just dick around where they aren't. Information doesn't stop people from getting hurt, it makes shit worse for them. Just let me at one guy, Juno. One guy, and I can get you any information you fuckin' want! I'll make them piss themselves outta' fear, and send them packing to their mommies when I'm done.
[ it's a lot of bluster, but the idea of being here and not there really seems to bother him ]
no subject
And what happens if you can't?
[ for a moment, he doesn't move, doesn't say anything else — but then he kicks aside the last of his restraint and shoves himself away from the bookcase to whirl on Bakugo. the problem is that Juno was that kid once, and that doesn't inspire much sympathy because that Juno hates that kid. he was an idiot who thought he could solve all the world's problems. seeing that in Bakugo just grates against all of Juno's frayed nerves. he isn't yelling quite yet, but his voice is low and vicious. ]
Huh? You want that to be our only shot? Say we tail the guy, and maybe we catch someone. What if they won't give up what we need, or they just don't know? [ he's talking fast, leaving no room to be interrupted. there's no violence in his movements, but they are sharp, angry gestures. ] Or worse, what if there isn't anyone to catch? You don't have to look someone in the eyes to kill them, Katsuki. Poison, a bomb — hell, drop a piano on 'em, if you've got a thing for theatrics.
[ he snatches up the papers from the floor and turns on his heel. ]
If you want to run off just hoping you can stop this by punching the right person, be my guest. I like to work a little harder when someone's life is on the line.
no subject
If, if, if. It's always "if" with you - you fuckin' coward.
[ he burns for this shit: the confrontation, the fight. words are cheaper than fists, but he's not going to throw the first punch right now. even he can focus on the task at hand, even if the way Juno wants to handle it is bullshit. paperwork's for the aftermath, what needs to happen is more than just scrounging for the chance that something'll come together. ]
Fine, we'll play this out your way. You put all your hope in the idea that you'll be able to cobble together something effective enough to threaten and shame someone, and what if they just don't give a shit? They got funding, they got political power, they can slip right through the cracks and let someone else take the fall for 'em. What you got then, Juno? A fat fuckin' crapton of nothing.
[ he sneers: ]
You think you're the only one who wants to save 'em? I like to work to ensure someone's life isn't taken from them.
[ fine ]
I'll give you an hour of my time, an' then I'm doing it my way.
no subject
at least if Bakugo insists on trying things a different way, they might have a fallback, a second shot that Juno doesn't normally get. besides, it's not like he has any room to talk when it comes to reckless plans. ]
Fine. [ his tone brightens, that deflective sarcasm of his sliding right back into place. ] I work better on a short timer anyway. Now, are you gonna help, or are you just staring at the clock for the next hour?
no subject
[ two can play at this dismissive sarcasm game, lady!! ]
I'll give you an hour of manual and mental labor, too. Greedy bitch.
[ and almost Prissily, he slinks off to hit up another bookshelf, another filing cabinet. pulling things open and dragging out old infochips, plugging one after another into the spare datapad in his possession. all he's finding it a fat lot of nothing, it's either factors unrelated to their immediate mission, or it's something so far-flung weird that he's beginning to wonder if there's something else ( other than imminent death ) that these people are building up to.
after a while, he meanders over to wherever Juno's at, and holds up something he's found. ] Shipping manifestos, wanna' look?
[ he already skimmed it and taken note, but he's playing it off like this work is so TRIVIAL!!! what a brat. ]
no subject
trading barbs with Bakugo doesn't help in any way, but it sure makes him feel better. he's taking his time going through papers like if he reads carefully enough, by some miracle he'll find the answer; he doesn't even look up from them to respond. ]
You can read, Katsuki. Does it look important?
no subject
[ "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?
no subject
he makes a face, never particularly pleased when someone else calls for him to use the cybernetic eye like he's a dog with one good trick in him. it's not something Bakugo thinks much of, he knows that; he's used to people with special talents, those Quirks, a little boost to do things beyond the ability of your own two hands. Juno isn't. when he came to the Station he'd only just gotten the damn eye put in, and it meant he'd had to get used to two completely different kinds of things digging roots into his head. it hasn't left him with a lot of fondness for the little piece of tech. ]
Theia, how 'bout it. [ talking to it aloud makes it feel more like a virtual assistant, which is nice, because there are enough things digging around in his fucking thoughts already. ] Anything you can pull from this?
[ unfortunately, he can't cut out the middleman and just send the Theia's chatter along to Bakugo the way he can with his own mental dialogue. but he can pass the gist of what it finds across in impressions: ghosts of files that someone wasn't careful enough to scrub properly, suspicious cargo, a lot of money changing hands. a few names that come up over and over again. Juno's assessment of the information comes tacked on almost like an afterthought — dealing in something illegal, probably for a larger group. the kind that can afford to cut their loose ends when someone doesn't keep their end of a bargain. just as changeable as the city it makes its home in. ]
I'm starting to think maybe our gonna-be-victim is less "innocent bystander" and more "caught red-handed by the kind of people you don't want to mess with."
no subject
doubly-gross, is the co-mingling of information and impressions from Juno. it's too easy to just drop thoughts through the link between them, the one that, if he ignores it enough, he can pretend doesn't exist. which makes it all worse when he's suddenly reminded that it does. he snaps back, reactive and burning hot: the mental equivalent of someone backhanding an offering, refusing it because it's insulting. ]
Use your fuckin' words, I can follow you better.
[ nothing follows better than sharing direct, unfiltered thoughts, but it's not as invasive ]
Fine. Cool, all the more reason to get on his ass - we can waylay him instead and wring some damn answers outta' him.
no subject
Fine. [ he's not happy about this, but when is he ever happy about anything. ] Let's get going.
[ the Theia didn't really get what they need, but it got enough to be useful and probably all they're going to find, so Juno abandons the datapad and the various papers, and he heads for the door — holds it open for Bakugo with a sarcastic flourish. if it were anyone else with him, this might be the time to split up, someone to keep digging for information and someone to see what they can pry out of the potential victim; not with Bakugo. Juno lives off the guilt for his own mistakes, but he hates cleaning up someone else's, and he doesn't believe that sending Bakugo out to investigate alone wouldn't end in a mess.
at times like this, he misses Rita more than anything, like a phantom limb. she would have had an answer for him from just a name and the right framing of all the vague details he could offer. ]
Look, I have to ask, should I be worried about how eager you are to interrogate someone? We're not going to have to play good cop/bad cop, are we? Because my good cop credentials got revoked when I left the force.
[ got himself kicked off the force and everyone knows it, but whatever. ]
no subject
for a boy like Bakugo, it's a slow, ugly chokehold. ] Who the fuck do you think I am.
[ he stops in the doorway, heedless of how sarcastically the lady is holding the door for him; glances back, over his shoulder. his mind is a simmering thing, ready to boil over at the slightest provocation and his resentment of Juno Steel is a vibrant, raw creature unto itself. there's a root to it, somewhere in the depths of his mental chaos. some internalized reason he can handle Juno when he's angry, but not when he's condescending. or when Bakugo perceives him as being condescending, to be fair. which. is how he views most people. ]
My job's to save people and stop bad guys and I haven't forgotten that, just 'cause I got you living in the back of my brain with your baggage. I know what I'm doing -- I'm not a cop, I'm a Hero. [ lbh you should always be worried about Bakugo, but he's just radiating a non-verbal dare: question him again on his intentions, pal ]
He'll talk. No need to play games like children.
[ he's a little too close for comfort, maybe, when he lifts a clenched fist - unfurling his fingers to display several small bursts of flame and force. ]
-- you didn't have to ask. [ out the door, into the hall. he barely looks back, slouching further and further from Juno as he makes for the door instead of facing him down. the ( thrum; hiss; static bright ) sensation of a dull ache, somewhere centered around his heart drifting back towards his ( stupid; stupid; stupid ) mission partner. ]
no subject
so he ignores that resentment (swallows it, internalises it) and the threats and the things he knows exist at the heart of Bakugo that he doesn't want to see. he's the adult here and the actual detective. which won't do much to soften the condescending edge of his attitude. ]
Yeah, I did. [ he slams the door behind him and follows Bakugo at a brisk pace, pretending not to notice any of the feelings that reach him. ] Whether we like it or not, we're working together on this, so I need to know what you're thinking. [ he pauses; realises how that sounds, given their situation. ] Not the— not through the Nest. I mean just, out loud.
[ the line between interrogation and torture is one that moves for different people, and it's easier to cross for some than others. it's not a matter of thinking badly of Bakugo, it's— Juno does things his way. even when he's improvising, it works because the pressure is all on him and anything that might be a variable is just part of the obstacles he has to get around. having to account for someone else disrupts that. he's not good at considering others. ]
Don't take it personally. You're not the first partner I haven't trusted.
[ Nureyev could definitely vouch for how much worse Juno can be on a case as a partner — and with that thought comes the telltale emotional spike from Juno, the sharp burst of guilt and love and longing that everyone in the Nest is getting fairly familiar with and tired of. sometimes accompanied by Hadrian Black, his face, his voice, the heartbeat click of his heels. Juno's presence in the link is usually a deep dark pit, so his thoughts about Nureyev stand out like a signal flare. ]