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

cw: self-harm

[assumptions]

[ Aaron is quiet, the cigarette still burning in his hands and he isn't giving it much thought. The taste of the cracker dust is still in his mouth, the affects it has on him not as intense, it wasn't the amount he'd usually have but it was enough. His throat is burning and he doesn't know how to answer any of it.

He watches his body movements, and he even now doesn't really know what they all mean, not really. If they had grown up together would he understand more? His fingers tremble a little and tighten on the cigarette and he paces a couple of steps pressing it to his lips, a long drag, holding and then a long exhale. ]

Are you going to give up Axel back at Palmetto? [ Aaron finds that perplexing if they only hiatus the deal then is Andrew only temporarily with Axel? Is that something with an expiration date. He doesn't understand it at all. ]

It feels like you're trying to make me choose between sticking with you and having anything for myself. [ Aaron murmurs. He's not sure what he's thinking when he presses the cigarette butt against his palm but he savors that quick burn before flicking the butt in Andrew's direction, clenching his palm. Maybe, that's the first outward sign of how fractured Aaron's state of mind actually is. ]

If you made me choose, I'd choose you, for the record. Every time. [ He presses his lips together. ] He's nothing.

[maserati]

No. ( he answers, because it's the truth. ) I'm not.

( but he also isn't answering anything else about axel, unless aaron asks for it. that kind of information isn't an unspoken something, and neither is it something andrew will go out of his way to clarify. he feels guilty about it, in light of their promise. he doesn't want to.

instead, he watches the end of the cigarette hit the floor. axel will grumpily pick it up later. andrew takes more of his interest in aaron's palm, balled in a little fist. his head tilts, interested. concerned. seeing the mirror image of himself acting as he would and wondering where it came from, although he does have an idea. he stands suavely, padding across to him. this time when he approaches, his presence is a lot less dominating -- the beast, for the time, has been calmed. it reaches for aaron's hand, parting open his fingers. )

All I've done is with the promise of keeping you safe.

( that's it. he's failed, as the cigarette burn mocks him, because the one person andrew can't save aaron from is himself. ( this, too, they have in common. )

he dusts the ash away, gingerly. carefully. intimacy does not come naturally, but under the thin veil of healing, he can manage it, cupping the back of aaron's hand, drawing his fingers along the burn. )

I would choose you. ( he says this quietly. he doesn't think axel would be especially mad over it -- probably happy, in fact, because he's a backwards thinker. kevin and neil don't stand a chance. )

[assumptions]

[ Aaron's quiet and and when Andrew comes close he doesn't flinch away or resist. He lets him take his hand, lets him erase the ash from his palm and leave only the burn as record of what Aaron had done to himself, traces still not clean -- like Aaron's not really clean either at least he hasn't felt clean in a long time, even before Eudio -- even before that night that made him feel dirtier and wrong.

Aaron's a hypocrite. He doesn't think Andrew is wrong, the aversion he'd felt with Nicky had always been rooted at something inward, lashing out somewhat cruelly at times but never more unkind than he was to himself. Never more unkind than his mother. He doesn't flinch as Andrew's fingers are close to the damaged skin but he presses his lips together. ]

We shouldn't have to choose. [ Perhaps, in a way, that's answering the question that he must answer. ] Wouldn't you try to keep me safe anyway? Wouldn't I kill for you anyway?

[ For Aaron the answer is yes, he would kill again to protect Andrew to keep him safe. He'd die for him, he'd take his place. ] No one will ever replace you.

[ It's a vulnerable thing to admit for Aaron, that Andrew's this important, but it's admission after admission but Andrew hadn't refused to meet him at least part way, so he'd give a little more. He hates himself more than words can say but his love for Andrew is bigger than his inward hate. ]

[maserati]

( he holds his hand for a moment, short in the long run, a fleeting thing. eventually, he worries about being too intimate about it, or being a boy and holding a boy, and he lets go, allowing aaron to take back control of his arm. the burn isn't too bad, but the meaning behind it is weighty enough to make andrew weary, taking a step back and staring at aaron's hand, as if still inspecting the burn.

we shouldn't have to choose. he could be right about that, maybe. lord knows andrew wants to live in a world where he can have axel and aaron, his lover and his brother, the two most important people in his life. he isn't sure it works like that. never once has ever been able to have everything he wants in his life -- everything is a scale, tipping one thing in front of the other, making you choose this or that. it's why andrew has trained himself not to want at all, why he's set of these rules and promises with himself to make sure he's always caught on duty, and never once for wanting.

he's never had to make a promise with axel. everything andrew ever threw at him he rejected, refusing to love him with bargains or trials or limitations, taking him as he was and accepting him for the fucked up individual that he is. but then there's aaron, who defended andrew where no one else had -- who fought off certain demons and put himself in the line of fire, to protect someone worth as little as andrew.

how does he pick, in light of that? )

New promise. ( he says, taking a seat on the sofa. his elbows rest on his knees. ) We never make each other choose. Because. I would choose you, but I would want him. ( he raises his eyes with implication. ) You understand? Asking me would make me hate you.

( asking one or the other, that would hurt. that would make andrew hate aaron for choosing him. asking will you break up with axel if i break up with murphy -- that's a no. he'll choose axel every time. )

[assumptions]

[ Aaron doesn't think too much about the touch, other than it's strange but not in a wrong, just the way that he and Andrew don't touch, not a lot, not affectionately. It wouldn't be such a bad thing if they were to start even if just because Aaron burned himself. He curls his hand into a fist, this time looser. The way the burn smarts is centering, cutting through a lot of the noise in his head and letting him focus on navigating this conversation with Andrew better.

When Andrew sits, there's a moment of hesitation. Then Andrew makes the new proposal.

After it, Aaron sits down at the far end of the sofa away from Andrew but still sitting with him in a way. It's a fairer deal, perhaps, than their original one but truly, he thinks Andrew gets a lot more out of it than he does -- but Andrew deserves it, doesn't he? Andrew deserves what he wants. Aaron had already ruined his life so much by just existing, by being the cancer that was in the womb with Andrew that was the one that Tilda took home. ]

We never make each other choose. It doesn't change anything else. [ There's words that still burn to get out in light of knowing he'd confronted Murphy, the things he knew Axel had told Andrew. He wants to tell him he's not gay, he wants to tell Andrew how much he hates himself and that he feels alone but what would be the point?

None of those are things that Andrew can help him with, protect him from. Andrew is everything to Aaron but he couldn't provide everything. ]

cw: rape mentions.

[maserati]

( simple, then. easy. if it were easy, there probably wouldn't be an ever growing pit in the middle of andrew's stomach, and he's glad all of a sudden, that he's spent so much time with a vampire over the course of the last half of year of his miserable life, learning how to get his body to relax from grief sooner. the fact remains. andrew hates himself in a way he hopes aaron never fully understands, he hates himself in ways other people would never and will never know. he can't supply aaron with anything, and that means that he, himself, is void of any worth he might have once had. ( a brother? no. but a guard dog? yes. )

his eyes keep forward, away from aaron. he has other things to live for now, axel and the life they plan to have together. is it so bad if he has to live without aaron?

yes. he sighs. )

You don't get it. You never got it.

( the promises were more than just promises, they were reasons andrew had to stay alive. an unfair weight on the shoulders of the people he almost learned to care about -- neil and kevin and aaron and renee, not quite friends, not quite family. aaron broke that promise. aaron wants you to die, says the illogical part of his brain, cruelly and unfairly, hissing all kind of different slurs and inhumane curses at him.

he draws a hand over his face. )

I don't have anything to give you, so this is a pretty shitty promise, all things considered. ( he clucks his tongue. ) Do you think I'm weak?

( a tangent thought, one he's been thinking since thanksgiving. maybe he doesn't trust andrew to protect him anymore, weak enough to get raped. maybe that's why murphy. maybe that's why homosexuality. maybe that's why everything. )

[assumptions]

[ Andrew's not wrong that Aaron had never really got it. How could he have ever understood the way Andrew thinks when they don't nearly talk enough for it to really make any sense. Andrew's actions are what Aaron understands or, at the least, can anticipate. ]

Then make me get it, for fuck's sake.

[ The words are muttered. He's tired, frustrated and he wants to understand Andrew. He wants to know him. He wants to be close, accepted. Loved? He wants more than cold glances and violence but they've been stuck, haven't they? Is it even possible to be more than this? More than deals and cold war status indefinitely? ]

Why would I think that? [ He's confused because in Aaron's mind what happened to Andrew hadn't made him look weaker, stronger, though, maybe. It'd made Aaron feel weaker. It'd made him feel guilty that his life had been better, that he hadn't been the one underneath Drake, that he hadn't killed Drake faster. Aaron's the weak one. ]

You're not weak. Stupid and impossible, maybe, but not weak. [ 'And I love you.' It's right there on the tip of his tongue but the words feel like a nuclear bomb waiting to destroy the world. ]

cw: rape mentions, general terribleness.

[maserati]

Can't.

( he can't make him get it -- he knows enough to know it doesn't make sense. nothing about him makes sense, and yet here he is, sitting on the couch, not making sense. no one is more frustrated with andrew minyard than andrew minyard ( although axel johnson probably racks up pretty close ), who both is total strangers with himself and intimately aware of all his shortcomings and faults.

his thumb acts up again, this time rubbing it under the knuckle of his pointer. back and forth, back and forth. )

Why would I think that. ( he repeats after him. there would be amusement, if he were still on his drugs, but instead there's a eerie nothing in the cadence of his voice. dead. ) You watched a guy fuck me, while I did nothing. You killed him, I did nothing.

( the thumb stops. his hand balls instead, pissy. proust found a weak cushiony spot in andrew's stone heart that always finds a way to come back into his head, a fantasy where he and aaron are amputees, without arms or legs, stuck naked in bed and made to watch, to listen. he thinks of drake often. he wasn't scared until he'd seen aaron, and then suddenly it was the scariest day of his life, because it was aaron and it was drake, and andrew never wanted him to be a part of that side of his life. never. )

Wasn't the first time. Wasn't the last time. Didn't do anything those times either. ( which isn't exactly true, but it's what the world has made him believe. he stands, apparently done with this conversation. he moves to collect mulder off the floor. ) I can't protect you anymore, so you can go out and fuck whoever you want. See you.

[assumptions]

[ Aaron frowns and his throat is tight at the words that Andrew says. It's not just the refusal to try to make him understand but then the subsequent retelling and more. He can still see it, he always sees it. But he still knows that it was worse for Andrew. Would Aaron have fought back? He doesn't know, he doesn't know anything.

All he knows is that he's angry at Andrew by the time the other stands up. He digs his nails into the burn on his hand letting the pain cut through the worst of it, keep his mind clear, keep the emotions from boiling over, keep his throat from getting tight or his eyes from watering up.

Aaron's the weak one. How could Andrew think that he's weak? ]

You can't or you won't? [ It hurts and maybe he's being selfish and blind but it once again feels like Andrew doesn't want him or doesn't need him. ]

I never thought you were weak. I just wished I could have taken your place. [ Aaron's not interested in talking more either and he pushes himself up, heading for the exit so he could get away, anywhere but there because Andrew doesn't want him there anyway, right? Aaron had been a burden since they learned about each other, since the womb. Everything that had happened to Andrew had been Aaron's fault. ]

[maserati]

( he doesn't get very far. the front door, maybe, but then andrew's hand is wrapped around his forearm, shoving his back into the door. too close up against him, not touching but only just, with a hand cupping the side of aaron's head and his other pinning his chin, keeping him in place.

he thinks it's the first emotion he hasn't been able to keep off his face for a long, long time. how fitting it is, that the emotion is rage. )

Never say anything like that. ( he grips him tighter, uncomfortably. ) Never say anything like that. Ever. I.

( he feels sick. it's the idea there again, the thought, aaron going through the same abuse andrew did -- and he knows what it would look like, too. he saw the video recordings. drake needed to prove to riko he'd done as he asked, and proust had that footage by proxy. of course they showed him. it's not himself in his mind's eye anymore, though, it's aaron -- and who would he be, if their positions had been reversed? different, completely and entirely. so would aaron. andrew doesn't wish his life on anyone, not the people who raped him and not riko or the ravens, least of all aaron, who had it bad enough as it is.

at the end of the day, there's only one person andrew thinks deserved the life that he had. ( up to a point. he's never done one thing to deserve axel's love. )

sick. he's going to be sick. he needs axel. he needs aaron to stay. he needs to remember how to breathe. )

I took you away from that wretched woman so you could have a better life, Aaron. I'll kill you if you ever say that again. ( closer. foreheads touch. ) Do you believe me? I'll kill you.

( he shouldn't. it'll kill andrew first. )

[assumptions]

[ It's the last thing that Aaron expects. Somehow, though, when he's shoved against the door, Andrew in his face but his twin's face not blank. Angry. There's a part of him that's thrilled to see it something other than dead eyes, blank expressions.

The grip is harsh and he knows not to struggle against it it'll hurt more. His hand clenches, nail into the burn and it keeps his centered. He needs to be centered for Andrew, right now. Aaron doesn't dare say anything until he's certain Andrew's done. He closes his eyes when their foreheads touch and he feels his eyes burning and he exhales heavily. Aaron is the weak one, how can't Andrew see his own strength? ]

I just want the same for you. Is that so wrong? [ Careful not to say the exact words that had set Andrew off, trying to find a way to communicate with him. ]

You're not weak. I just want you to have a better life.