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ataraxioff2015-08-22 11:34 pm
ataraxites) wrote in ataraxioff2015-08-22 11:34 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME 001
T E S T D R I V E M E M E You wake up, alone in the dark. There's a breathing tube jammed down your trachea, and you're suspended in a tube of clear blue fluid. Through the fog you can see shadows of movement, the muted sound of alarms crying. Upon registering your level of consciousness, the gravity couch drains the fluid surrounding you and retracts the breathing apparatus; the doors in front of you open, and you're suddenly dropped several feet onto the opposite wall. It takes you several minutes to catch your breath and gather strength in uncooperative limbs; more time still to climb up through the debris to the hole in the outer wall high above. You emerge in bright sunlight, surrounded by an immense jungle. As your vision clears, you realize you stand on the hull of a colossal spaceship, crashed on an alien planet. There's a shout behind you, and as you turn, figures climb over the curve of the ship towards you: your rescue party, weathered and scarred by the efforts necessary for survival. B A S E C A M P A ramshackle spread of tents and shelters built out of resources salvaged from the ship and gathered from the jungle. Not sleek, not clean, but alive: people coming and going from tent to tent, heading out into the jungle or returning with freshly foraged food. Some are working to build more shelters or improvize working tech out of parts salvaged from the ship; some are cooking; some are just taking shelter from the sun for a while. Whether you find somewhere to help or apply your skills, it's probably a good idea to get to know your neighbors. E X P L O R A T I O N The jungle is dense and green, teeming with life, high calls and cries of strange animals and birds, the low buzz and murmur of insects. There are no paths or notable markings; go too far into the trees and you may not be able to find your way back. Dangers hide in the shadows but there's also food, water - or perhaps you're looking for more, pushing further in a search for answers about this planet you're now living on. Or you can turn your attention to the crashed ship, the huge bulk of it balanced precariously on the edge of a cliff. It creaks and groans in its delicate position, audible from a distant but all the louder should you venture inside. Dark corridors made even more dangerous by the damage to the internal structure, debris and obstacles blocking progress, and any wrong step could cause it to collapse in on you, or send the ship over the cliff. But finding any tech, resources or supplies might just be worth the risk. C H O O S E Y O U R O W N . . . Hunt or flee from strange creatures in the jungle, take a try at rock-climbing down the cliff-face, or practise in-game gained abilities. Ataraxion is currently without a network until one is built, but test-driving on a prospective one is also totally fine! |
no subject
He blinks and stares a moment at the question -- and then actually chuckles a bit. Okay, it's more a half-amused snort than anything. Right. More information.
And, really, he can talk about Al all day long and not feel like he's going to be snowed under by the enormity of what they all went through.]
No more armor. He's okay, too. He looks like a starved waif. [Apparently. It's not like Roy's actually seen him, oops.]
no subject
Maybe best to put him in the armor until he's better, huh?
[Damn, this all ended better than he anticipated.
He clears his throat.]
We should probably sit down, take a load off our feet. I've been spending the last few hours scavenging a ship for usable parts; it's a real jungle in there as much as it is out here.
[The ship is a hot mess, buddy.
You can tell Hughes has been particularly active, what with the oil smear on his cheek and the little cut on his forehead, like he went and bumped into something sharp (cough busted ship panels cough). Not to mention, he's got a little more scruff than even usual, bangs trying to sneak out of the slicked-back look he usually has.
Working hard for that non-existent money.]
no subject
I would have suggested it but Ed might have actually punched me in the face. [Didn't want to deal with it. Couldn't have seen it coming either.]
I was looking for a place earlier but then I got--
[Oh. Cue one somewhat horrified look.] The stew.
[No, seriously, don't mind him turning on his heel and heading back the way he came. He does remember to gesture toward Hughes. This way, man. Follow him. Come stir stew or something.]
sorry for the wait! what a week
...
...
Is he dreaming weird crap, or what? He wanders slowly after Roy, piecing together two things: one, that there is apparently stew. Two, that Roy is - for some reason - in charge of food? Who put Roy Mustang in charge of food? It's about a good idea as letting him get behind a wheel. He's no Gracia. The master chief is not him.
He looks down at the bubbling frothing thing hanging above the small campfire.]
Did you horribly maim that, or is it saved?
totally understand. been a week of crazy for me too.
He crouches by the fire and gingerly moves a few of the smaller logs around. (What? His hands are already maimed. What's a few more minor burns?) He looks up and frowns at the mess of a stew.]
I think I burned it.
[It's the most unironic thing he's ever said.]
no subject
Oh my god, Roy — if there's anything to help dispel his awkward lingering feelings on this entire moment, it's this right here. You're absolutely hopeless when it comes to actually cooking. Maybe if you stop taking the ladies out to dinner and start actually making things at your empty apartment... For real.
He plops down, peering up and over the lid with a disturbed little expression.]
... Mmm... Absolutely useless.
You need some serious practice, man.
[He tries to stir it, but it's... not looking good.]
Hope you're not guarding this for one of our more aggressive civilians.
no subject
All things considered, it's not his fault really.]
It probably should come off the heat. Might still be edible. [Like he knows. And he's making no move toward lifting the pot; he might be able to do small things like stir but lifting a heavy pot of stew might end up with someone wearing the stew.
Then it would certainly be a lost cause. He'd hate to drown his newly-not-dead friend in scalding hot stew. (Halluci-stew and Halluci-Hughes or not. He's still not quite sure.)
What a thought, though. He's probably gone crazy. Screw it, he's sitting down right here, on the ground next to the fire.
What a day.]
no subject
[He quiets a bit, though — uncharacteristically, if you know Hughes well enough around here. Roy's a little out of it, and probably for good reason, but it doesn't sit well with Hughes. Last thing he wants to see is the colonel looking like he's walking a dream.
And he's concerned, because even though Roy says everything is okay...
Well, Hughes worries more than he lets on.]
Seriously. What the hell happened to you back home? [You look a little dead on your feet. But he's not gonna say that, because he happens to be dead, and that makes things awkward.] You like you've been through some pretty crazy stuff before you showed up here.
no subject
Pull up some dirt. It's a long story.
What's Truth trying to do here? Teach him some idiot lesson wrapped up in storytime?]
That's one way to put it. [Definitely crazy things.] I killed one of them. I started digging after-- [He cuts himself off, because finishing that sentence just isn't going to happen.] I went fishing and the catch nearly killed us. Havoc was medically discharged. Paralyzed. I really thought that they'd come after me. [Because, you know, vulnerable in the hospital. Just gonna gloss over that.] Hawkeye was expecting it.
[He drops his hand and shrugs.] They needed me alive but apparently I was too dangerous to just let be. [And now there's a bit of a wolfish grin.] That may have been because I walked into Central Command and accused the fuhrer of being a homunculus. I was right. [This is said with a bit of an air of superiority. He was right damn it.] I probably could have done that a little differently. They kept me there all night and, in the morning, my team was given new assignments. It was implied that if I didn't keep a low profile, my people would pay the price.
[Yay, hostages. He's pausing here, opening the floor for questions. Whaddya gonna throw at him, Truth and/or actually Hughes?]
no subject
Kind of feels like their time at war. Except, you know. Somehow less traumatic. Goes to show how absolutely fucked up their time was in Ishval. Hughes plops down without hesitancy, gaining that focused look he usually gets on a pretty heavy caseload. His eyes widen slightly — because, well. Shit. That's a lot of bad fucking luck. And — ]
The fuhrer was really one of those — things?
[He rubs a hand over his mouth, looking at the ground.]
Damn. I can actually see it. I knew it went high up the ladder, but that's still...
no subject
[He lets his hand drop then, wrist resting on his knee.] We went into their stronghold to try to stop them that day. We did it.
[Shruuuuuug. No big deal.]
no subject
Trying to make it sound like a typical day at the office?
Sounds batshit crazy, if you ask me.
[But he's more relaxed beside Roy now, eying the man's hands but keeping his words to himself this time; no use pointing out the obvious. He'll need to make sure sir colonel here isn't getting himself any worse off. Hughes is champion at Roy Watching (like bird watching, only it's way more enjoyable to annoy Roy compared to birds, but hey).]