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

No worries!

[unconqueredson]

You won't be fine for long.

[It isn't a taunt, either, only a snappish but casual dismissal of what he sees as flippant arrogance. He'd seen its like before, from older men who sought to keep him his in place by asserting that their competence was so much greater than his own, that he ought to depend on them somehow. This woman doesn't look much older than he is, and she is a woman, so how competent can she truly be?]

Unless you've your own supply, and if you, someone will find out. [The added remark is off-handed, less threat than assertion of fact. Few things make people as desperate as thirst does.

His gaze up to the trees is impassive, before he picks a convenient one and hops to, climbing up a few branches before stopping to assess the way further upward and also to see whether she follows. The going isn't comfortable, with the trees sticky with moss and clinging climbers, and there are already insects scattering under his hands with every firm grip of the bark. He scowls up into the far canopy.]

We'll have to go high up if we want to see anything but more trees.

[symmachy]

[She wants to laugh at him, to tell him that he has no idea what makes her fine. But she knows that it will be of no use. He comes off as too hard-headed to fall for her taunts. That's a good thing, for the most part. But it also means that he's, well, less fun.

Scathach rolls her eyes at him, sheathing her makeshift weapon in her makeshift back harness. Definitely less fun.

Without responding, she grips the moss and bark, fingers digging a little too far into the trunk. But she doubts he'd notice, since he probably isn't looking for anything off about her. The corners of her mouth tug up into a smirk, and she starts scaling the tree with catlike grace and swiftness. Though the damp makes her uncomfortable, the bugs and height do not. There are few things that make The Shadow truly squirm. She practically tears vines and leaves out of her way as she races towards the top.]