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

[odon]

[ Good call on not making remarks about her being a woman. It's not something Anya's used to dealing with, when among her people women are just as strong and as capable as men, and they are seen as such. She's never dealt with anyone that thought her any less of a warrior for being a woman, and she definitely wouldn't take it well, if and when it happened.

She looks him up and down at the last words, as if that alone will tell her what he could possibly mean by that. Be of use? He would more likely cause trouble, or so she thinks just then. But... she does need food. Everyone does. Not that she's inclined to share with strangers, but she doesn't have anyone else in this place.

If all else fails, she can always let predators have at him, if they happen to get attacked. Lowering her sword just slightly, she nods to the direction she's headed. ] Stay out of my way.

[unconqueredson]

[Not making comments is difficult, and his eyes keep roving over her with the low-burn suspicion of someone who expects a slip-up. Her own scrutiny is received with a careless upward jerk of the chin, a minute and casual challenge. He is thin and bedraggled and looks younger than his age, but a lifetime of violence has left a confidence in his hold of his weapon, as though even the makeshift spear is already an extension of his arm.

Stay out of the way, she says. His jaw tightens a little as he slips into step next to her. He shouldn't get angry at a very familiar comment, but the hunger makes it difficult.]

I know how to track and hunt, [he says in a low voice.] I'm not a pup following your for scraps, doma.