TEST DRIVE MEME 001

[ataraxites]

T E S T   D R I V E   M E M E A R R I V A L 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!

Comments

base camp.

[puppydogeyes]

[The sounds of approach aren't of a single person, two feet and boots through the low grass that's started growing at the edges of the trees. It's two feet and boots, a few sets of four paws, the low sounds of dog breath. Taylor doesn't say anything, and if any of the dogs are inclined to leap on Oxford's sleeping form then they are gently held back. Instead it's the drop and shift of a body settling down next to him, close to his side in a familiarity born from a very long (if patchy) history and an inclination for contact which she may one day have to admit has been heightened by the newer abilities growing in her mind.]

Looking busy.

[She says, dry, but if he opens his eyes he'll see she's tipped her head back against the tree trunk, seeming just as ready to doze through the high sun as him.]

[romanticism]

[ the sounds of her feet and the dogs mingle with his absent minded dreaming, skimming along the surface of faded, slightly irregular visions of his hallway, in london. where he is supposedly sitting with his back against the wall, right by the front door. he doesn't need a second opinion on what it means; he knows full well. but taylor's arrival dispels the dream. the dark shadows of his house disappear, and he wakes properly when he feels her sit by his side. the temptation is to turn, to look at her. take her in, her familiarity. take comfort. he knows that he missed her, even if he didn't miss the rest of this. his eyes stay closed, voice low and dryly amused. ]

I'll have you know I've been huffing and puffing all morning. Chopping firewood like a true man of the woods. Or jungle, I suppose.

[ he tips his head to the side, in taylor's direction. an eye opens. ]

Comfortable?

[puppydogeyes]

[Her brow pinches slightly, as if really thinking about the question, assessing her exact comfort levels. She shifts, sits forward, pulls a large stone out of the ground right behind her and slings it off into the underbrush without opening her eyes.]

I miss the pools.

[What she really misses is the ocean. But that's three steps back on the course her life has taken, the Academy, the ship, now here. And the exact body of water wouldn't really matter, just that taking a swim would be a good way to cool off in this heat. The only water around is more liable to peel people's skin off, though, so she just huffs a short sigh, settling back, shoulder pressed to Oxford's.]

You need a shave.

[She still hasn't opened her eyes.]