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THE N E S T ([personal profile] onemind) wrote in [community profile] emptynesters2017-04-04 08:54 am
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TEST DRIVE :003


TEST DRIVE :003


     WELCOME to the test drive and thank you for your interest in Station 72! To allow players to experiment with game mechanics, flexibility and to account for the fact that our TDMs tend to span a number of months to make up for our low player turnover, we've put together a game-themes random scenario generator for you to play with. Mix and match prompts at will, pick your own broodmates, experiment with abilities and specializations, talk to each other and maybe make up some pre-established CR, and generally play around however you like.

This test drive is not game canon, so take this chance to go nuts! Current in game players are also welcome to make top levels here and aren't beholden to their in-game characterizations (so if it makes more sense to be a broodmates of a character test driving, feel free to do so for the sake of these threads).

For the full experience, we strongly encourage players to write up a short blurb about what their fellow characters might know about them either through shared time on the Station or through the Nest mental link. Handy links can be found at the bottom of this entry if you have any questions and APPLICATIONS are always open if you decide you'd like to jump into the game proper. If you're having trouble coming up with a symbiote ability for your character for use in either the TDM or for your application, we have an ability workshop post located HERE.


(Mix and match these prompts at will to create your own TDM scenario - there's no obligation to use something from every category. Feel free to make up anything that isn't covered in the prompt if it lends to your playing.)


     THE PLACE

1. STATION 72 consists of massive, alien sprawl. While large sections of the Station might be mistaken for a Station manufactured for use by humanoid beings - the hangar is relatively standard other than its massive size, the Life Support deck with its series of living quarters seems normal enough (if you ignore the part where none of the rooms have doors on them), and there's even a Jai Alai court -, beyond the most well trod paths the Station quickly cedes to the utterly bizarre. Corridors twist and loop back in on themselves, great verandas overlook massive empty rooms, ramps because stairs which lead to dead ends. It's easy to get lost if you don't have a destination in mind. Strangely enough, if you do know where you want to be, the Station's twisting paths will eventually get you there as long as you keep your goal firmly in mind. Knowing that is another thing entirely.

2. THE MELTED WORLD was once beautiful. Then again, maybe it's always been a toughened old rock, but at some point the planet called Ojan was glassed in the throes of a brutal war. The planet's entire surface has become a twisted, mirror-like substance by whatever super hot biological weapon was poured into it. The material isn't actually that horrible, consuming black; it perfectly reflects the empty, quiet space that surrounds Ojan: a foreboding testament to a war long forgotten. But what lies below the surface of the desolated world?

3. THE SCEPTRE is a fabulous building structure suspended from an asteroid in orbit around a planet. The Sceptre pierces down through the atmosphere of the planet below and over the course of the asteroid's orbit, The Sceptre has an opportunity to pass through every habitat and climate the world below it has to offer. The Sceptre is sleek and beautiful (or it is? Maybe it's fallen into disrepair and only ghosts remain) and its massive windows look out onto a varied, verdant world (or do they? What state is the planet below in, exactly? Has it been so thoroughly paved over that the atmosphere is the only place left to build?).

4. PENTARA PRIME is the ancient, meandering capital of the lush garden world of Pentara. Unlike most cities, it is a large, verdant sprawl, made up eighteen clustered centers - groups of low, elegant stone buildings, strung together by winding roads populated with quietly humming pods moving people from spoke to spoke. The capital is built around leisure, not production and there are far more gardens and orchards than there are buildings. The sun is heavy and low, and the air is still and buzzes with the sounds of fat-bodied insects. It’s so still, so calm. It seems empty and there is something unsettling in the quiet. --Or is it? Maybe it's bustling with energy, just as vibrant and delightful as it seems on the surface.

5. CHORIUS is not quite a planet. Not anymore. Once long ago it was, but over time it has changed - been stripped clean of every valuable mineral, every scrap of rare metal, and eventually even of atmosphere. The core has cooled perceptibly and now even its rotation period has slowed dramatically. Now it is a made up of shaped carbon and steel that bridge over the stripped surface of the planet, pulsing with energies, shielded from the harshness of the sun by a webbed dome that keeps the electric scented air from escaping into the space around it. Here nothing is wasted. Everything - everyone - is recycled and reconstituted into new forms. Every one of the cities changes daily, reformatted to meet new goals and new needs. It is a dead world filled with the living. But whether it is thriving or dying is hard to say - and what the newest change will bring with it is even more difficult to guess.

6. SPACE, THE FINAL FRONTIER. There's a lot of it in every direction.

     THE PEOPLE

1. THE OUTLANDERS consist of small bands of settlers and explorers who have quested out into the unknown, the remote, and the dessicated parts of this galaxy looking for either new opportunities or forgotten mysteries. They are mostly upright though only vaguely humanoid, remnants of a civilization driven from their own failing world, each group is bound only by their own codes and personal laws. They're traders and nomads, largely peaceful but wary of the harsh, dangerous environment and beings they've crossed paths with. Don't cross a deal with an Outlander - they'll make you regret it.

2. A VERITABLE MELTING POT, the beings of this metropolis are as vibrant and diverse as is imaginable. These are a people developed by a myriad of cultural influences, technological insights, overlapping interests and clashing societal norms shaken up and spit out into something that more or less works as long as there's a whole lot of bureaucracy to keep it in order. And boy is there a lot of that. Mind your p's and q's - someone might haul you in for questioning if you cause too much of an uproar.

3. A RUINED GHOST is all that remains of this ancient civilization. Once there were people here leading brilliant or lives, or quiet ones, but all that's left are their ruined structures, old half-functional consoles and signs of lives abruptly arrested. What destroyed these people is initially unclear, but their extinction appears to have been absolute. --Or was it?

4. THE COURT is elegant and beautiful and perfect. Every being is shrouded in delicate, gauzy fabrics layered so densely as to obscure their elongated squirming bodies from head to toe. Each step sounds like a bell ringing from the the small metal plates at the bottom of their soft slippers; every gloved finger glints with small golden threads. The queens sweep through their secret insect gardens and their royal technomancers walk the halls with the glitter of hologlyphs sparkling at their fingertips and in the wake of their sweeping robes.

5. THE GREAT MILITARY is larger even than it’s name suggests. Every member of their civilization plays some part in it, every person has a rank, every family an insignia. The structure is rigid and inflexible and all-encompassing, and it has made them into ferocious enemies. They have been at war for as long as they have been a people, and their battle will never end, because if it did, they would go with it. The harshness of their life is painted on the sharp planes of their grey faces, but there is an indomitability and a pride to them that is hidden by their stern, unchanging expressions.

6. SCUM ALWAYS LIVES at the edge of the universe. Beware the dark of the space and the seedier underbelly of cities or the shadows of forgotten planet - pirates make their living there and these are desperate times, friend.

     THE OBJECTIVE

1. GET UP from where you've fallen. Or get up from the nesting deck pod where you've just woken up on the Station. Or get up to Level 672 where there's a ship waiting for you. Or get up from the knee you've taken before this alien queen. Get up.

2. THE RESCUE might be saving a city from a disaster engineered by an enemy force, playing bodyguard for a government official, or liberating a rare artifact from a crumbling structure.

3. IT'S A RACE AGAINST TIME to collect the relic you've been sent to retrieve from the collapsing ruin. Or to make your way free of the military blockade. Or to make your escape from a crumbling world.

4. THE MASQUERADE is all a cover - for an assassination. For a heist. For a political coup.

5. INFILTRATE you know what you need. And you know who has it. With a little help you’ll be able to break into the place no one is supposed to go. You could sneak in… or smash in. Or maybe just talk your way past every little problem.

6. COME ON AND SLAM and welcome to the jam. It’s a ritual or maybe it’s just a pastime, but whichever it is there are rules and there is a goal. There’s probably even points. If you’re lucky, you just might score one. Avoid the spiky pits? Or maybe the thrown fruit. Or perhaps just the other team...

6. EXPLORE and uncover the secrets this place have to offer. There’s a mystery here if you know where to find it. And all you have to do is look.

7. DON'T DIE is easy to say and hard to do when you're under the guns of an armada. Or when you're trying to outwit spies. Or when the ground is literally crumbling under your feet.


     INSPIRATION







everyone wants space cup noodles

[personal profile] lilies 2017-04-05 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ it 100% applies to you too.

gladio gives a tip of his head from side to side. Hearing the sound of something hot whizzing past them, he can think of a few things that definitely make the fussing of diplomats with laser guns seem paltry in retrospect. the amount of laser guns isn't all that great, however. not to mention the lack of cover from here to the door leading outside. ]


A table leg that'll probably split a skull or two open, yeah--

[ it's the sound that gets gladio to drop the table leg, not the sight of it. he knows on pure instinct what it means, the breaking of something into existence, it's weight manifesting out of thin air. he hadn't been able to take a weapon in, which had left him feeling antsy. He's more used to a starched uniform than clothing that's too soft, too flimsy. gladio trades the makeshift bludgeon for the sword, feeling the foreign heft in his palm acclimate almost immediately.

that's much better than a table leg. ]


But I mean, it's a good thing I grabbed the right person because now we won't have to test that theory out.

[ all done in good timing too considering one of the taller figures comes upon them, looking to clear the room with a pretty nasty-looking rifle. it's instinct to lift the flat of the sword up and catch the trajectory of the laser in a heartbeat, the metal ringing back with a bright, metallic tone. ]
somnifacient: (11)

gladio only you want space cup noodles

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-04-05 04:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[r u d e? he was never a pain in your ass, gladio

Noctis wants to say something in reply, something reminiscent to their usual banter on Eos, hunting monsters and the like (what a lifetime ago that seemed), something like, "What would you do without me?" But he barely gets the chance to do more than summon his own blade from thin air — fingers gripping tight at the hilt of the Sword of the Father — when the tall alien approaches them, rifle in hand. The laser it fires burns hot through the air itself, slamming and screeching onto the flat side of Gladio’s sword, ricocheting off to put a hole in the ceiling above them. Dust and small chunks of debris breaks off and lands on Noctis’ shoulder, dirtying the inane outfit he had been forced to wear. Too loose for his tastes, too flowing, too pastel and shimmering in its colors.

Now’s not the time to worry about fashion, however. Noctis warps forward, striking the alien with a large horizontal swipe across its chest, the force of impact even more staggering given the short distance between them. It cries out unintelligibly, careening backwards, the large gash across its body staining its own clothing with blood.

The trail of Noct’s magic lingers behind him, slowly fading into nothing.]


How about we get the hell out of here? [He practically has to yell it over all the commotion.]

listen here you tasteless little shit

[personal profile] lilies 2017-04-05 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[ never ever never u were a perfect angel he totally forgot.

gladio pulls out of the noctis' path immediately, watching the path that trails behind him as he cuts forward in a blur of light, knocking the alien down with a swift slash along its chest. he pulls his own sword down and examines the fray leading outwards, looking for a direct path towards the entry way. they're still some ways off, unfortunately, but they've encountered more impossible objectives. ]


Sounds good--not really a party I want to stick around to see the end of!

[ he banks his sword a bit to the side to take an on-coming assault that whips in from the left, using the blade to push away and then cut down the attacker (much better than a table leg, thanks.)

cleaving a path forward isn't easy in the din, but the wide swing of his blade is as good a start as any as he glances over his shoulder with a slight grin. it's not home, not anywhere close, and noctis is a damnable decade older now in all kinds of ways, but it still feels the same, it still feels at least a little bit right fighting alongside him, and that much makes him swell a bit with determination to cut down again with a quick, professional swing to finish the job quickly. ]
somnifacient: (28)

don't talk to ur king that way

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-04-05 08:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[good i'm glad that we're both on the same page

Noctis had always been able to rely on Gladio as the bulldozer of the group, and nothing’s changed regarding that. Where his blade swings, no one can hope to remain standing — there’s a comfort in that reliability, in that one constant that he’s used to, even out here in the far reaches of space, so far departed from their world. Even in the chaos of laser fire, as he swipes his own sword to cut a rifle away from yet another attacker, Noctis mentally leans into this harmony, letting it grant him focus on the battlefield.

Which makes the transition from spoken word to mental communication all the more natural, even if he does it without really thinking.]


(You look dumb wearing that thing without any sleeves, you know.)

[Ten years later, and the 20 year-old Noctis still shines through on more than one occasion. Even as they cleave through more aliens, even as the king phases through a laser that would have met its mark otherwise. It's not like Noctis looks any less ridiculous in his own attire.]

pls

[personal profile] lilies 2017-04-06 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ the same page of fiction.

gladio feels the softest touch of a voice and it will never not be weird, he's fairly sure. since his arrival, it's been strange and unnerving for anyone to reach out in that way, something that doesn't belong (but belongs all the same). he heaves his sword up with a breath and at once he can feel his body settling into a rhythm that seems perfect, muscles glancing off muscles as he and noctis trade off blows to carve a path for themselves. it's one of blood and metal and heat and gladio feels the singe of something graze his arm, but lets it fuel him all the more.

the moment he returns the mental tap is when he realizes how strangely natural it feels. ]


( Don't they say if you've got it flaunt it or something? )

[ there's the faintest curl of a smile mentally, the barest flash of teeth even when gladio's own are grit fast to the point of an aching jaw. gladio watches as noctis moves for a split second in and out of space, one moment here, the next there with a blink. he barely has to think about his own motions, moving in time with noctis' quickly-paced attacks and covering his back ceaselessly. they leave in their wake a trail of fallen, some unconscious, some down far beyond the count.

the adrenaline rushes with a fury that gladio knows at the peak of a fight, dangerous but thrilling all the same and while getting cocky's unwise, there's a satisfaction that runs the thread between them, the feeling of being unstoppable. as he watches noctis cut down another enemy alongside him, swiftly and without a single moment's hesitation, every phase perfect, not a movement wasted, precise, and there's a warm beat of something proud there.

he brings his sword down to his side in the lull, wiping blood from his cheek off onto the back of his hand. ]


( Besides. Better dumb than dead. You take a look in the mirror lately, your highness? Not exactly the paragon of fashion yourself. )
somnifacient: (22)

:')

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-04-06 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
[It's easy enough to slide back into a familiar rhythm, and perhaps their shared mental link only aids in this further. Still, it it's almost comical how easily the two of them in tandem sweep through any who might stand in their way. He trusts Gladio to have his back, as always; they're nothing short of a well-oiled machine, with Noctis feeding off of the borrowed adrenaline spike, the razor-sharp focus of fury. Funny how it wasn't until they both had a symbiote in their heads did Noctis ever feel that brand of convergence, the raw instinct that he knows doesn't belong to him, that he siphons off of Gladio in times such as these -- on the "battlefield", in all its forms.]

(You're just jealous.)

[Still doesn't mean that he can't quip back with the same amount of ease.

The lull is still welcome, however, (being so detached from the Crystal strains his magic more than it should, more than it would usually, he can already feel it in his bones) and thankfully they've already drawn relatively close to the entrance. Noct feels a sting of a cut across his own cheek, but it must be nothing more than shared sensations, because when he brings his own hand up to feel at it, there's no telltale sensation of warm blood there to meet him.]

[personal profile] lilies 2017-04-06 12:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he can see the slope of noctis' shoulders from the work they've done, but even more so, he can feel the tautly-drawn hum of exertion beginning just faintly, overlapped with his own humming muscles, at attention to see the task through. he takes up the rear as they make their way towards the door, sword low but prepared to reach out again if need be. ]

( You're still scrawny. I'm not jealous of someone who has twigs for arms. )

[ everyone is scrawny compared to gladio. that's just a fact of life. and he isn't about to stop teasing noctis for it even now. truth be told, with all the swordwork noctis does, he most definitely doesn't have sticks for arms, but it's all a matter of perspective and he could always use a little more work.

he casts as look behind them, making certain that no one is at their back aiming to try something else. ]


( Even if they are slightly bigger twigs than before. )
Edited 2017-04-06 12:12 (UTC)
somnifacient: (18)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-04-06 01:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[Everyone is scrawny compared to Gladio, but Noct isn't going to give him the satisfaction of "saying" that much to him. (Even if it is nothing short of a universal truth.) Instead, he huffs out something that sounds like a half-scoff, as if amused that he's pretty sure they've had a similar conversation before.

A turn of the heel, to both look at his companion and to check that no one's decided to follow them out. For now, at least, it seems as if they're in the clear. He pushes down a feeling of relief, not eager to indulge in it too early.]


(They're not twigs.)

[A great comeback, Noct!

With the words come the dissolving of his sword in shattered blue light, and he next comment is actually spoken. He straightens his shoulders, defying the strain of using his magic in such a manner, though he can't hide it completely through their link. He can put on a brave face, at the very least, coupled with a wry response.]


Give a guy a break. I was asleep for ten years, remember?

[personal profile] lilies 2017-04-06 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ten years.

everything in gladio's body tightens fast like a fist from gut to heart in a lightning strike of a sensation. ]


For you.

[ his mouth forms a thin line as he flanks him now, herding the both of them off to the side to make as though their bedraggled state is totally normal upon exiting the room. torn fabric and a few blood stains and some wayward laser burns. yeah. normal. don't mind them. they're somewhat out of the woods, at least for now. ]

Last time I saw you, at least back home, you've barely been gone a few months.

[ ten years. they'd barely scratched the surface of that time. there are only so many hours you can busy yourself enough to forget at least a little bit. but he looks at noctis--ten years of sleep to wake up to the world changed around you. no doubt he knows that everything's gone to shit. how jarring that is. gladio wonders, for a beat, just how bad it gets, how dark it becomes. ]
somnifacient: (20)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-04-06 06:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[He feels that sensation upon dropping this revelation, the tension that Gladio experiences, the cloud of something heavy above them now. Mentally, he curses to himself. Insert foot in mouth. The Shield of the King had a right to know, of course, but perhaps a more delicate touch would have been beneficial in a situation like this.

Not exactly Noctis’ forte.

His face twists into a frown, brow clearly furrowing.]


That…

[Words, they’re gone. He sets his jaw, walking a few steps alongside Gladio, searching for the right ones. Trying to withdraw the images that roll forth like an ugly wave, of a world drenched in dark. Of daemons dotting the landscape as far as the eye can see. Of the Citadel, crumbling and empty — with the exception of one man, seated on the throne, radiating spite down at him.

He flexes a hand, the one adorned with the Ring, which feels hollow ever since his arrival here.]


You’ll have to wait a little longer for me. Sorry about that.

[To say it was jarring was an understatement (he remembers being met with tonberries of all things, shortly after waking), but he had pushed forward with an acute sort of stubbornness that didn’t allow him to linger on it. After being brought to the station, perhaps he didn’t have that luxury anymore.]

You’ll manage, though. If that’s any consolation. [It probably isn’t.]
Edited (unfortunate autocorrecting...fml) 2017-04-07 18:31 (UTC)

[personal profile] lilies 2017-04-07 08:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[ it isn't.

but that's alright (sort of). ]


I shouldn't be surprised to hear that you overslept a decade.

[ that's easy. a slight smile, eyes tracking their path for anything out of place, listening out for the echo of anything beyond their hurried steps. it's probably a good thing that gladio doesn't make a habit of trying to rely on consolations. things tend to make a habit of getting worse before they get even remotely better. it doesn't really remove the sensation welling up, but it's a practiced motion, being able to push it down again as noctis walks with him in silence, churning like waves.

the dark had come faster and far more heavy than anything he'd witnessed and the most painful sense of loss, splintering out, had arrived on its coattails shortly after, molded into frustration and the inability to stay in one place for very long. that's what makes it hard to remain with prompto and ignis for very long periods of time. it's too much of a reminder. it feels good for a day or two and dies off, painfully and it starts all over again.

somewhere in there, he's felt like he'd failed in some way.

he leans in a bit, giving half of a shove with his shoulder to noctis' own, a faint jostle that's bordering on tired. ]


But better late than never.
somnifacient: (10)

[personal profile] somnifacient 2017-04-08 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
[Noctis’ frown threatens to turn into a lopsided sort of expression instead, an almost-smile. The half-shove only makes him exhale in a chuckle as he catches his balance with ease, ironically appreciative of the gesture. The shift in tone — though likely not softening the blow of this revelation — is at least welcome as they walk. A quick, automatic pace, Noctis’ alien attire flowing behind him. He’s nearly forgotten about how ridiculous he looks, too focused on the conversation at hand.]

Of course. I wasn’t going to leave everyone hanging.

[There’s more to the story, of course. More spokes to the wheel. His conversation with Bahamut from within the Crystal (the feeling of ageless eternity wrapped in fractured light), their battle with the Infernian (coiling flame, so much of it), his final confrontation with Ardyn (hate and sorrow and pity and pain, the dance of two Lucian kings). Noctis pulls his gaze forward, setting his jaw. Quietly thinks that he can ebb into Gladio’s head, just slightly, a ghostly tendril reaching in to feel what he feels.

It slips past him, just barely. Whatever the man had just pushed down and away, locked from Noctis’ prying mind. This is enough to make his decision for him. Noct won't say anything else, not just yet —he's sure he can get away with it for now, to maybe have this conversation later.]


But now we just have another problem altogether. Being trapped out here, moving from mission to mission.