// TEST DRIVE MEME_

[eluviomods]

// TEST DRIVE_ Welcome to Eluvio's Test Drive Meme! Whether you'd like to try out a character in the setting, get some samples for your application, or just mess around and have fun, this is the place to do it. If you're getting samples together, remember that you need at least four comments made by you in the thread for it to count. Pick any of the scenarios below or make up any of your own. This is space! There are infinite worlds and possibilities. If you'd like to thread out hijacking a ship, do it! If you'd like to get stuck on a remote planet with only one other person for company, do it! Take the wheel and guide your own adventure! The most important thing is to have fun! ➣ SCENARIO 001. It's a normal day aboard the Eluvio. Maybe you're on your way to work. Maybe you're hanging out with friends. You can even be up to nefarious misdeeds. Whatever the case, you're having a relatively uneventful day. And then you see it. From a distance, it looks like a ball of fur. Up close, it looks like a ball of fur. If you touch it, it will chitter at you. It will vibrate and purr. Where this is coming from is anyone's guess because even if you turn it over, there's nothing to see but more fur. It's pretty harmless, though. Leave it there. Take it with you. The choice is yours. As you continue about your day, you'll begin to notice more of these little furballs. On the ground. Sitting on tables. Here and there at random intervals. By the end of the day, they're fucking everywhere. Good luck! If you get overwhelmed, maybe go talk to that bald starship captain who showed up last week. He might know something about the furry invaders. ➣ SCENARIO 002. Congratulations! You've been selected to be part of the team being sent down to the planet around which the fleet is currently orbiting. Initial scans of the surface show that oxygen is in abundance, temperatures support carbon-based life-forms, and there aren't any large quantities of poisonous gases that might pose problems. Your mission is to secure a landing site, set up a camp, and locate edible flora and fauna. Stores aboard ship are running a bit low on food and it's projected to be another three weeks before the fleet reaches a station large enough to replenish supplies. Once identified, larger parties will be sent to the surface to help hunt and gather. The good news is, scans show fruits, vegetables, and animals are plentiful. The bad news is that once your ship lands on the planet, everything goes sideways. An unexpected ion storm sweeps through the solar system, shorting out communications between the fleet and the team. It wreaks havoc with the electronics planet-side too, temporarily shorting out the smaller craft's navigational array. Until it passes, about six standard days, you're stuck down there. And the bountiful harvest isn't without its dangers. Even the most docile looking animal will attack. Sampling the fruits and vegetables will cause temporary paralysis, hallucinations, and psychosis. Inhaling pollen will bring out a person's baser instincts. The planet itself is predatory, you see. Everything on it has evolved to entice visitors from nearby systems and kill them. And the fleet's unwittingly taken the bait. ➣ SCENARIO 003. It's been a rough day. Everything's going wrong. Machines are breaking down everywhere. The owner of your favorite business wasn't there today and the store was closed when you stopped by to pick something up. A coworker didn't show up for work, leaving you with an interested workload. And now it feels like you're being watched. It started about ten minutes ago, but whenever you turn to look, there's no one there. The feeling doesn't go away, though. No matter where you are, it feels like eyes are watching. Did you hear something? A quiet, scuffling scratching sound just for a second? Maybe you did. Maybe you didn't. But it came from the misshapen monstrosity that just punched a hole through the bulkhead right beside you. The creature makes a low, wet gargling noises and darts toward you: six to seven feet tall, vaguely humanoid, and covered in strange growths over which is stretched bubbling grayish-brown skin. Maybe you notice tatters of familiar clothing hanging off of it. Or there's enough left of its eyes to recognize the shape and color. Or maybe something about the noises it's making sound familiar. It's your missing coworker and it looks like the unfortunate soul ran afoul of that weird slimy creature the science team brought back from that jungle planet a month ago. The good news: you can kill it. The bad news: it can kill you. It's fast, it's hungry, and it reproduces at an alarming rate. A single bite can transfer the parasites in its bloodstream to you. Then you'll be just like your buddy. And that shop owner you like so much. And all of the people on Level 12. And... ➣ SCENARIO 004. You're welcomed and encouraged to make up your own scenarios. As you can see, there will be a wide variety of the types of things your character will encounter in this game. So feel free to make your starters as horrific, sexy, lighthearted, action-packed, or slice of life as you'd like. Make up a planet, make up a location on the Eluvio, make up a ship in the fleet, fight off a zombie alien invasion, NPC Captain Picard, there's no limit to what you can do on the TDM.

Comments

Reaper | Overwatch

[hellshot]

Side 001
> I want these things off the ship

[It's honestly not as if the mask-wearing man is any great bastion of sympathy for any creature that's less intelligent than a human being. Hell, he didn't even like certain genetically-modified gorillas, why the hell would he pay any goddamn mind to apparently useless balls of fur that were harmlessly hanging around the ship?

He'd kicked a few out of his way during his rounds earlier in the day, and now that some hours have passed, even an idiot would notice that the number of the damned things were getting seriously out of hand. Picking one of the damn things off a table, he's going to chuck it at the closest, least useless person he can lay eyes on--that means you.]

They're fucking balls of fur. Either we throw them out an airlock, or they can be burned. There's no use letting them pile up here--or do you want to be buried alive by the damn things by 22:00?

Side 002
> Being dead has its advantages.

[It's about the 20th time that Reaper's attempted to get his communicator working. Knocking his palm against the side of it as the thing fizzes to life momentarily, only to flash off within a few seconds of giving the barest hints of hope to the irritable ghost that was holding it. He's sick of being stuck down on this damn planet, and he's sick of having to save his comrades (questionable term) from the inherent dangers that this godforsaken planet has to fuck with those of the more living quality.

Twice now he's had to shoot something toothy and hungry looking as it tried to draw in one of the people he's been stranded with in to bite their heads off, and three of the other recruits were currently suffering a mass hallucination and were chattering away after eating some fruit that looked, smelled, and tasted just like strawberries.

Except for the fact that they were blue.
Don't eat the blue strawberries.

He's a moment from throwing the communicator to the floor before hissing, letting out a cloud of black smoke from under that mask. Staring down the person closest to him--please god don't be one of the ones tripping off blue fruit--and giving them a rough nudge.]

The next time one of you tries something stupid, I'm going to watch for something to do.

001; it's furry time.

[thornvine]

[well, shoot. a guy can't get any kind of peace and quiet around these parts now, can he.

it's with an unchanging facial expression -- impassively stern -- that the other catches the furball with a free hand, hardly even flinching. he brings it downward to stare at it with the one visible eye he has, scrutinizing... before flinging it away in a direction away from them both.]

Good observation. They're "fucking balls of fur", all right.

[the tall red-head looks around, a hand on his hip at the remaining piles of furballs, overflowing from table to floor or squished between the crevices -- he bets even god wouldn't know where they came from or what they're doing.]

No, I don't want to be buried in them, but if you're suggesting we set this whole place on fire, you better have a lighter and the ability to take responsibility ready.

i will sho o t you

[hellshot]

Don't mouth off, or it'll be you I set on fire first. [He doesn't bother following that threat up with so much as a bit of eyecontact, though, watching that furry thing sail through the air as Sachi tosses it away, adding to the already growing pile of the damn things.

Under his mask, his face scews up into an expression of extreme irritability, arms crossing over his chest.]

Do I look like I'm carrying a lighter? A damn lighter wouldn't do a thing against all of these anyway, don't be stupid. As for taking responsibility, I think we'd be thanked for some damn extermination of the things.

[But maybe not for a fire in the hallways.]

try me, barn owl

[thornvine]

[he gives the other such a skeptical look.]

First, I'd like to see you try.

Second, you were the one who first brought up the idea of burning them all -- so that's your own fault. Don't suggest something, then say it won't work, and then call the other person an idiot.

[but the lecturing ends quickly enough as sachi crosses his arms, eye closing for a hot minute in thought. he can't tell if these things are living or not, and it's kind of strange -- but the one thing that's clear to everyone is that at this rate, the ship really isn't going to have space for all of these.]

I have no problem rounding them up.

Do you have access to the airlocks, then.

hoot hoot motherfucker

[hellshot]

[Were his face unobstructed by the strangely stylized mask he's wearing, it'd be painfully obvious that he's fixing the one-eyed idiot with an expression that suggests that Sachi is exactly that. An idiot. His head tips to the side instead, and that expressionless mask just faces the other for a few more seconds than necessary before he lets out an irritated sound--nearly like a hiss.]

Burning them doesn't suggest that they need to be burnt here and immediately, dumbass. [He points at the growing piles that litter around their feet. Obviously he meant they should be BROUGHT somewhere for the job. Throw them into an incinerator. Something.

But that aside...]

Of course I have access to the airlocks. I have access to the entire goddamn ship, so long as there's even an inch to sneak in through. [This tone is cocky, now, instead. Some parts of the ship were way tighter than others, but... getting into a place like the airlocks would be simple work for a man who could literally turn into a cloud.]

[thornvine]

[he doesn't need direct line of sight to reaper's face to know -- he affixes him back with what seems to be a one-eyed stare, if it weren't for a odd, somewhat piercing sensation that he was being looked at deeper than just his surface, from somewhere underneath that mess of bangs that covers half of his face. he shrugs, however, unfazed... or more accurately, just uncaring.]

You were the one that suggested it first. [simple as that.]

[and once more, body poised in a seemingly relaxed yet still-alert way, he looks aside for a second down the hallway before back to the masked man, his look feeling as usual once again.]

I actually meant permission to access the airlocks, but I guess neither of us care much about that. Fine, then.

Start gathering them up.

[hellshot]

Take the time to get a free pass, and we'll be overrun before it's approved. [Old habits from Blackwatch certainly did die hard. It was easy to bend and break the rules if it got a job done faster. Maybe that was part of the reason why he was passed over for the position of Strike Commander in the first place.

He sneers at Sachi from under his mask. This little(not so little, you titan) bastard really needed to be taken down a peg, so far as he was concerned. But that could be saved for later. He didn't much like taking orders from others, but if there's one thing he wants done, it's getting these things gone.

Sachi doesn't have to ask twice before he's moving to sweep the damn things together, using his feet to rather unceremoniously gather them up into piles.

We're going to need a big box for this.]

drink more milk and you'll make my height maybe

[thornvine]

[cutting corners...

well, it wasn't like sachi didn't approve or anything. he was fine with ignoring rules or whatever for a better outcome -- a lawless man, who less broke the rules rather than he just didn't care they existed.

while reaper starts kicking the furballs together into a pile, the other continues standing there with his hands shoved in his pockets for a moment. absolutely useless, you'd think, as he closes his eye and remains quiet for a few seconds -- and then he'll finally start to contribute, anyway.

from somewhere uncertain, he retrieves a funny-looking thing that in his world, would be called a wand if it weren't for the fact that its appearance and how he holds it kind of looks more like a mace. his conductor for manipulating shinsoo -- and it glows faintly, bright gold vines sprouting from the ground and spreading to gather all the furballs into a cooped pile.

you needed a big box, you said? how's this for show?]

Guess we'll have to split the process into a few rounds. [and screw whatever poor planet these furballs land on, if they survive out in space, too...]

002; I flipped a coin.

[steprightup]

[McCree half wishes he had a piece of chalk so he could mark the number of times Reaper's fiddled with that damn thing in the last hour. He thinks it'd go a long way to proving a point. Mind you, he's not entirely unsympathetic with the man's frustrations. This entire mission's been nothing but a hot mess from the start... but it's hard to be sympathetic when you've been turned into an impromptu stress ball.

Pushing up the edge of his hat with a metal finger, McCree gives Reaper a disgruntled look, lips pursed and all. He was, by all appearances, taking a nap. Only the presence of Peacekeeper in his lap with the safety off is proof that he wasn't. No point gettin' too comfy when the entire planet's out to get you.]

Y'mean besides play with that piece of junk? Y'oughta relax more, partner. [He drawls the word, emphasis on the silliness of it. Of all the people he could be on this mission with...] Especially since it looks like we're gonna be here for a while.

you silly bean

[hellshot]

[Of all the damn people was right. That lazy, southern drawl isn't one he's unused to, and still somehow, even now, it triggers an irritated feeling in his stomach. A complicated one, for numerous reasons. But it wasn't as if he was about to air all of that out to the stupid cowboy-wannabe who has the gall to tell him to relax.]

If you have any better ideas, you can put them out in the open any time, ingrate. [He looks down at him, easily letting that irritated tone echo out from behind that stylized mask of his, finally crossing his arms to stare down at...

Jesse McCree. Why did he have to be pulled into a mission alongside Jesse McCree.]

Didn't see you try to stop those idiots from eating that clearly poisonous fruit. Was that just you relaxing?

;w;

[steprightup]

[He lets out a noisy exhale and adjusts his hat from "napping position", all the while resisting an urge to pull out a smoke. They're here for at least another 5 days and he's got a bum feeling there'll be more trying times ahead that'll call for the occasion.

Instead, Jesse gets to his feet, not much bothering to dust the dirt off his trousers in the process. A minor detail that would've bothered Reyes back in the old days. He wonders if it will now. He sure as hell knows the pretense of napping and being perfectly at ease with this botched mission did.]

Last I heard, this place was s'posed to be paradise on- [well, Earth. He shrugs.] Didn't hear nothin' about a planet that you needed protectin' from. [Though honestly, it doesn't surprise him at this point.] What was I supposed to do?

[He resettles Peacekeeper in her holster and jabs his thumbs under his belt, adopting a casual and favored position. His words, however, are belied by the fact that he himself didn't go anywhere near the junk. If it seems too good to be true, goes the saying, and Jesse McCree's never been one to trust something that sits pretty and polite, waiting to be taken.]

[hellshot]

[Fingers curl a little against his arms as he hisses out a small sound of irritation, tipping his head back to look at the clouds overhead. They were flashing lightly, a storm that's brewing far enough away to not cause them problems--other than making it impossible to send messages, that is.

He resists the urge to reach forward to rough the dirt off of Jesse's clothing himself, finally leaning against the hunk of space junk that was once a working spaceship.]

Rely on the rations we have on board and survive. [Roughly, tipping his head back with a cocky 'obviously' sort of motion.] I don't care if it's not filling or if it tastes like shit--nutrients are nutrients.

[Probably something he's said to Jesse before--how disgustingly nostalgic.] You brought your gun, didn't you. You've got more than enough protection--unless your aim's gotten shittier in the last few years.

[steprightup]

[Oh it's familiar enough. If Jesse cared to, he could ignore their environment a little more, pay a little less attention to the aches in his joints that come from old age and it'd be like he was 17 again, bitching about MREs and how they tasted like burnt cardboard. And Reyes would be right there, smacking him lightly on the back and telling him to suck it up even as he planned to get him a real meal when they got back on base.

Just like ol' times, isn't a saying he wants to be thinking about standing here, stranded on an alien planet with a man who, by all rights, should be shooting him or being shot by him.

It's an uncomfortable reminder.]

Yeah, yeah. [It's a disgruntled sound, one he makes as he adjusts his hat again for lack of something better to do with his hands. It is also, as habits are wont to make, a sign of his uneasiness as the shadows settle deeper over his features, masking his eyes.] When I said y'oughta find somethin' new to do, I didn't mean ya should start naggin' at me.

[hellshot]

[He wasn't a fool in thinking that their current predicament was one worth noting as anything nostalgic or friendly. Quite the opposite--it was frustrating having to partner up with someone who he had more than a dozen mixed feelings about, and it would be far easier to just shoot him and have another name off of his list, but here he was.

Standing and holding a conversation with the brat who had gone his own way. He didn't want to feel nostalgia. He wanted to get the mission done so he could turn his back on the brat and forget everything in his head again.]

Then maybe you should try not making it so easy, cabron. [He turns his head, looking at the cowboy-wannabe from under the dark holes in his mask.] Easy targets are the ones you take aim for first, even you know that.

[There's a low rumble of echoing laughter from him, a whisp of black fog swirling out from under his hood.]

[steprightup]

Pretty sure we both know you're the type to go an' make anything a problem. [He retorts, words a little harsher than intended. An aftereffect at how he reflexively draws back from the Spanish that rolls so easily off Reaper's tongue, turning out a familiar insult that hits something inside of him and squeezes hard.

Realizing what he's done, what he's implied, Jesse tsks at himself and looks away. Reaper might deserve that kind of bite, Gabriel Reyes did not. That fight was a long time coming and he knows it. It speaks volumes for how little he's actually grown in his time since Blackwatch when that's the barb he chose to stick. Reaper's right in that at least, life taught him to punish weakness. Blackwatch simply hammered it home.]

... alright, maybe we oughta take a step back here and start over at the beginnin'. [Apologies are awkward for him, always have been. When you've spent a lifetime protecting yourself with a poker face, willingly exposing yourself isn't just difficult, it's damn near impossible.] I don't think either of us signed up to salt each other for an entire week, and I sure as hell don't wanna be fightin' with the only other gun I trust on this rig.

["Trust."] If I start relaxin' a lil less, maybe you can start doin' it a lil more?

001

[sogekitai]

[ the furball bounces neatly off his chest, landing perfectly in a waiting pair of hands. it rumbles like a bumble ball on low batteries. ]

Why wouldja wanna burn 'em? They haven't done any wrong.

[ the pout he levels at reaper is a truly impressive thing. it's a pout that likes to think it has a 100% efficiency rating, while also knowing that the number of times it has gained him anything sits at a solid, whopping zero. the pout of an idiot.

there is a tribble sticking out of the back of his shirt, second of all, which doesn't lend well to the effect he's trying to achieve here. ]

I'll betcha anything they just want a l'il attention.

[hellshot]

They haven't done anything right either. Except sit around and be useless. Sound familiar?

[He looks down at the fuzzy-haired man, thinking for a moment that the idiot might be more inclined towards the things because he felt a sort of kinship for them. What with a terrible head of hair like that and all. God, get a proper haircut.]

If all they wanted was attention, maybe they should occupy a different goddamn space. Don't know if you've noticed. They've tripled in number since this morning. [And do YOU want to be overrun by gormless balls of fur? Imagine suffocating in all of that. Reaper won't have to deal, but he enjoys walking, thanks.]

001

[doxing]

Awe, but Gabe, look at them. They're so cute and harmless—

(whips it back at him, watching it pound him in the head and ricochet off with a miserable squeak.

time for some rapid-fire spanish:)

Don't you put this on me. You wanna guess at what all that burnt hair's gonna smell like?

[hellshot]

Cute is subjective. Harmless is questionable. [He watches the thing roll to the floor after it quite accurately hit the side of his head. If it had been ANYONE else doing that shit, and they'd be full of shrapnel right now.

He replies easily to her rapid-fire words, spitting out a response in the same language.]

What would you prefer. The smell of burnt hair, or a spaceship full of the dirty animals. They need to be gotten rid of, before they make a goddamn menace to the whole place.

[doxing]

(a colossal roll of her eyes like she's still in high school and dad's being unfair—)

Listen, grab an armful and quit bitchin' about it, then. We'll shove 'em out the airlock. (hands on flaring hips, totally ramping up the sass.) Not everything is as big a deal as you make it out to be. I mean, if it was? We'd all be dead—

...

—er.

[hellshot]

[Listen to your father.]

...

What was that, Sombra? I couldn't quite hear you over the sound these damn things are making.

[DID YOU WANT TO TRY THAT SENTENCE AGAIN, MISS. He crosses his arms over his chest, his tone entirely that of a scolding father about to cut down his daughter's curfew by two hours.]

[doxing]

(you wouldn't DARE. i will open an airlock on you, so help me god.

leg locking. hip cocking.)

I don't know how anyone can take you seriously. Are we gonna do this, or not?

002

[monology]

[Felix didn't eat the strawberries, but he did get bitten by some sort of snake earlier. (Un)fortunately, whatever venom it had hasn't killed him yet, but it does seem to have struck him with a high fever if his flushed face is any indication.

Once could argue that the cooling systems in his power armor are probably more effective than fanning himself with a large leaf he found, but he doesn't seem to be in a mood to listen to advice right now.]

Well damn, I sure am fucking sorry for having a living human body rather than being a ghost cloud who obviously never makes mistakes ever.
[Can you hear the dry, irritated sarcasm, Reaper. It's thick, like your thighs.]

[hellshot]

[He can hear your sarcasm and he's choosing not to rise to it. After all, Felix is the one fanning himself with the local flora like some overheated concubine. Reaper fixes him with an irritated gaze that the mercenary won't be able to see under that mask of his.]

I'm sorry you have to suffer through with making mistakes too, so at least we're on the same page here. [Yeah, he sure does hear your sarcasm. And he's choosing to ignore it.] Venturing out into the wild of an unknown world is what someone with half a brain does, anyway.

It'll be amazing to me if half of you jokers make it back alive at all.

[monology]

Oh my god. Venturing out into the wild of an unknown world is literally what we were sent down here to do! So either you also have half a brain by your own definition or you have half a brain for agreeing to do a mission you didn't even know what it was.
[This all accompanied with lazy gesticulating.]

Also fuck you if you think I'm gonna die here and let an edgelord like you eat my soul or whatever it is you do to sustain yourself. Souls or Linkin Park albums.
[All this say while sitting on the ground, back against some weird alien tree.]