Test Drive Meme #1 (cw vehicular crash, moderate injury)

[spoofer]

Test Drive Meme #1

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.

You don't need an invite to test
but please remember we're currently invite-only

CRASH LANDING

Exit one dimension, enter the next. It was chaos: pressure against your ears, light bending in an impossible, unimaginable way. The very molecules of your body vibrating against one another. If you have windows, the view outside makes no sense. Even if not, your hands, your face, your feet seem like an uncertain thing. It's the feel of reality itself tearing apart, reshaping, reconnecting, thread by thread.

And suddenly, there's a beach— or ocean, whichever you land in. Smoke. Fire. Salt water churning up, fizzing around.

Maybe you crash, in a ship wrecking into sand. Maybe you merely stumble out of a portal, a ragged wormhole in space. Or maybe you fall off the back of an incredible steed, some creature that carried you into this place. Either way, there's pandemonium around you. Incredibly, severe injuries are far and few between— nobody's screaming about the dead. But you might have to help pull someone free of wreckage, or move quickly to salvage burning belongings from the landing craft. Maybe it's the crafts themselves, that you're trying to salvage.

Likely, you don't know them, these other strangers who arrived here^[1]. Maybe you don't trust them— you just came out of a dying world, after all. But you all have one thing in common: you're here now.

When you get a second to breathe, maybe you'll see it. The brilliant green forest across the sand. Beyond that, the glint of a faraway city.

INTO THE WOODS

Your first night at Xistentia does not feature five-star accommodations, but as the sun begins to set, the forest offers everything you need to survive. By now, you may even have met your daemon, who'll help guide you through this. There is fallen wood to make fires for warmth and cooking, any number of rabbits, deer, and fish if that's what you're into eating. Those very same animals also provide guidance as to what vegetation is edible, including a variety of vine mushrooms, fruits, and flowers. If you're the kind of creature that mostly eats other sentient creatures, well. Technically, there are a lot of those hanging out too^[2]! Now and then, you'll see tiny, winged humanoid creatures the height of a finger dart in and out of view.

A resourceful group, the multiversal refugees have determined ways to create shelters, using wreckage, supplies, and basic survival knowhow. There aren't enough blankets to go around, but the weather is mild and the fires seem to keep out any aggressive creatures.


Things get quiet. This could be a good time to meet the others under less fraught circumstances. Maybe you'll see some familiar faces and reunite with others who fled from your dying world; maybe you'll meet someone new.

Try not to seek out and fight any Rock Trolls. It's still early.

ENTER THE CITY

The city is beautiful, even with the vines covering everything, the streams running down half the streets, the massive white deer leaping off under the highway overpasses. The architecture of the skyscrapers is incredible to look at, modern and sweeping. It's clear that terraced gardens were part of the building design, and some of the greenery that lines the street had been part of the original city plan. This is a city of great potential.

And it knows you're here. As you walk by, beacons like streetlamps begin to emit a gentle glow, registering your presence. No doors are locked, though you might find yourself chasing out nests of silver-winged birds and bug-eyed rabbits.

Here, you can claim empty shops or the clothing and other sales items inside of them. Apartment complexes aren't difficult to find in a range of sizes; nor are standalone homes, brownstones, loft studios. Penthouses may not feel like penthouses when there's a thin layer of dust growing on everything and a flower growing out of the sink, but you know what? Maybe that little bud is gonna be your first roommate.

It's the strangest thing. After a few days, the lights begin to work and the water begins to run, fully operational within the unseen sewer system. At some point, the keys to your house or residence are going to turn up. Your daemon will help you find what you need. F.A.TE.S. welcomes you.

NETWORK

By now you've settled in. You have some time to explore the city, the woods, and your new kit.

Chances are pretty good that your daemon is not a phone or a computer or a wax-sealed piece of parchment or a Howler, nothing with a convenient camera or a keyboard; it probably isn't even a pocket sized. Likelier, it stares at you with eyes that contain the lenses-- or powers-- of a camera, and some part of its body projects a holographic keyboard into the air. For those of us who are not accustomed to manipulating intangible light prisms, it's about as intuitive to type on as shaping a cloud with your fingers.

But here's your network access. Accessible to all your fellow travelers in XISTENTIA.

Misfires, typos, and blurry video footage are likely. Time to feel like a Luddite!

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

hells yeah

Footnotes

1. Some of these can be nameless, plot-device NPCs to facilitate interactions! But even in this case, please avoid gore in describing their current state of being. Anyone dead or catastrophically injured will have disappeared by the time your characters make it to Xistentia. There are no corpses or dying here.
   
   
2. But like OOCly ask permission ofc.

Comments

[rekt]

[ murphy has already jumped on the bed, plastered his face to the windows, found the booze, and took a piss in the master bathroom to claim it as his own. by the time they find the cake, he's well and good hyped up, bouncing on the heels of his socked feet as the dig into some cake, fucking cake, in the apocalypse. he's already loving this apocalypse so much more than his one from home.

he'd been about ready to throttle k on the way into the city for all the whining he was doing, and all the blank staring aric was up to, it's honestly amazing john murphy isn't, for once, being the most obnoxious one in the group, wishing k would talk less and aric would talk more, and some how stuck in the middle of the spectrum. but now, acting like a kid with this idiot boy who'd become his closest real friend here, maybe this place will actually be livable. maybe less of the hell that earth was. is.

sputtering a laugh as he chokes on the last piece of cake he's trying to swallow, murphy gets it down with a gulp, before he can clear his throat enough to say - ] Copy, if you really want me to eat you that bad.

[ k's gross bad jokes have grown on him, apparently, but he opens up to let him zoom zoom the spoon into his mouth with only slight eye rolling. ]

[pillz]

[neeer dooshhhh. the spoon of food makes its landing, smooth as you like. smooth as ice cream as a matter of fact, thick and creamy and sweet and now chinatown would really love some ice cream. maybe in time for a the 100 viewing party. but the fact of the matter is, that the dumb game that kavinsky plays doesn't end in any idiot offense. not trying to gag the other boy with the silverware down his throat, or jab around in his mouth to make like, penis bulges out of his cheeks. he just rubs it around on murphy's spoon, then fishes the handle downward, sliding it slowly out of his mouth again. ensuring that every last bit of milky sugar is smoothed off on his tongue.

cake improves most things. why not the urge to throttle someone, too?]

One day I will teach you to eat ass, [kavinsky says.] But until then-- [and then he closes the space between them, elbows skidding on marble. it's nice-- a nice change from the whiny little fuck who'd bitched for five minutes about the stone in his shoe and then spent the next fifteen trying to kick other ones all over the abandoned strip of warehouse district as they went along, slowing them down on their way into the residential area and anything remotely inhabitable. nice, the chill of kavinsky's mouth when he latches onto murphy's with it, his tongue as cold as dessert toppings prying at murphy's jaws.]

[rekt]

[ it's possible that the moan murphy makes while the spoon slides smooth off his tongue is more pornographic than at least half of the sounds he's made it bed. kavinsky may feel jealous of the ice cream. but to his credit, the urge to throttle has rapidly evaporated with this treatment, and murphy's ready to go all jelloy and pliable, so tired after the landing, the trek and the camping, body missing the simple pleasures and thrills eudio made so easily available.

like kavinsky, and his smirky lips, and his profane mouth, and his demanding tongue. ]

M'gonna remember that. [ murphy muffles into kavinsky's lips, trying to talk with a tongue sucked between his lips. he wants those ass eating lessons, he wants to get to do to kavinsky what he seems to love doing to him. but until then, he's going to suck face, and maybe other more offensive things later, snickering into the seal of their lips, as he licks all along kavinsky's teeth, trying to soak in the sugary dessert taste clinging to him. this cake is going to melt if they ignore it too long, though, and murphy's hand fumbles around, one sitting comfortably against the side of kavinsky's neck and the other picking up the spoon, murphy trying to tilt his head and peek opening an eye just enough to get another spoon full, before he pulls back, though his body stays close. ] Okay, forget coming in for landing. Eagle Two is screwed 'cause Godzilla's attacking the airport. Open wide, lizard king.

powerpose, lmk if not ok (cw c-word)

[pillz]

[the things that kavinsky loves include the fact that one john murphy, intrepid spaceboy, now knows what godzilla is. it makes him laugh when the spoon suddenly sticks in his mouth, and hits the roof of his mouth and he almost gags on it. still smiling though, like a fucking idiot, his jaws pried open but his too-big lips bent wildly up into a jack-o'-lantern grin.

several events occur at once. he gets brain freeze. he gets his mouth off the spoon, swallows anyway. feels the cold burning its way down his throat, as he stoops into the friendly concave of murphy's body, sticks an arm through murphy's legs and wraps it around his leg, puts his own shoulder into murphy's gut and hoists. his head is screaming murder at him, vibrating with a very special dessert agony, but he ignores it, guffawing, sticky sweet dairy running out of his mouth. when murphy flails, his foot accidentally hits the round dish tray thing holding the ice cream cake, but luckily it just jumps an inch then lands again. plenty left to melt.]

Hrraaorrgh, [kavinsky exclaims to the empty apartment. which isn't entirely empty, to be fair. any number of weevils and small flowering plants say hello. but you know the funny thing, the carpet looks less mossy already, and the couch is entirely free of dust when kavinsky hurls his prey down into it.] I'm 2014 Godzilla-- taste my Atomic Breath, li'l baby cunt--

[uncomfortably, this means kavinsky pinching murphy's nipples through his shirt, leaning his weight down on his chest with the heels of his hands, and trying to drip ice cream saliva on his face.]

[rekt]

Son of a bit-- [ murphy shrieks as he's suddenly lifted up onto kavinsky's shoulders, not a whole lot of people willing to manhandle him around like this, but k seems ever entitled to it. not that murphy's ever made a complaint about it. and flail he does, even at the possible expense of the cake, legs scrambling, body squirming, and hands shoving at this stupid, gorgeous, infuriating, hilarious jackass right here.

the shrieking is half made up of mad laughter, so the protests and fighting aren't that convincing, but that hardly means murphy's going to stop. he lands on the couch with an omph, and doesn't have much time to catch his breath before some douchebag starts tweaking his nipples like he's trying to tune a radio. another snickering screech echoes off the walls gradually losing it's creeping ivy, and murphy struggles against him, hands shoving, and feet kicking at kavinsky's hips, shoulders trying to cave together to wiggle his chest away from this undignified assault!!

and, wow, kavinsky's going to freaking drool on him. this is the grossest shit, why does he like this dumbass so much? (for crap exactly like this, honestly) ]

Ah, nasty! [ his hands move from shoving at kavinsky's arms and chest to pushing at his jaw, trying to angle his icky drooly face away from dripping onto his person. it doesn't help that laughing like a loon hyperventilates him some, his toothy half-grin half-grimace making his eyes narrow. ] Motherfucker, don't you dare!