riverview: test drive meme

[riverviewmod]

riverview test drive meme

Welcome to Riverview's first test drive meme! Feel free to dip your toes in on the test drive meme to try out your character in the setting, play out a mission, and get samples for your application at the same time!

● Reserves are currently OPEN.
● Applications open on March 1st.
● All threads on the test drive meme can count as game canon once the game is up and running.
● TDM threads do not count for Activity Check, but they do count for Activity Bonus Points.

Feel free to use the prompts below or create your own scenario. The setting is built to be flexible, so feel free to make things up as you go.

information resources
premise ● arrival ● setting ● ask a question ● navigation

prompt i: batten down the hatches

If the sky has seemed a little more yellow-green than usual for the past couple of days, there's a reason for that. Meteorologists have been warning of a particularly nasty storm blowing in from the direction of the Delta in the Southwestern part of the Abandoned City.

The Quarantine is about to be hit by a nasty typhoon, and there's a lot to be done. Whether you're helping sandbag the banks of the river, which is bound to be swollen by the storm and flooding, weatherproofing your building, or just huddling indoors for warmth and helping reassure your friends, family, or partner that everything will be okay, it's time to take action!

prompt ii: monster madness

There's been a lot of talk around the Quarantine about the various predators and monsters outside the fence, and how they've been getting steadily more active, crowding the fences, trying to leap over them, seemingly driven by some kind of mania. There have even been increasing instances of predators that normally mind their own business attacking the fences wholesale, slamming into it over and over as if they're trying to find a weakness.

The good news? The fences have been holding. So far.

The bad news? They won't be holding for much longer.

The Perimeter Guard is in a bad way, and it's all hands on deck. They've also sent out a few of the Perimeter Guard Cadets to post up flyers around the city asking for temporary help in fighting off the beasts. So pick up whatever weapon you're best with, hop onto a truck transport, and head on over to the fences to help drive off the monsters and keep the Quarantine safe.

prompt iii: hold your lover close

With a storm rolling in that's going to keep everyone indoors, that might cause power outages, and is just frankly pretty scary, a lot of the clubs, restaurants, and hotels are doing special events to keep everyone's brains occupied and flooded with endorphins.

There are flyers around the city advertising various couples activities: speed dating, dance classes, overnight pool parties, and all-expenses-paid lovers' nights in.

The catch? The great deals only count if you're a twosome. So if you don't have someone to love, hit up speed dating in the indoor courtyard of Riverview's largest mall, or grab the first person you see and take the opportunity.

prompt iv: solution

After a day or two of storm activity, things are definitely not getting better: the rain is torrential, the monsters are attacking with increased energy and decreased rest times, and the distractions are starting to wear thin. Power outages happen off and on, a very rare situation in Riverview Quarantine.

The government has put out an all-points-bulletin imploring anyone with an exploratory spirit to help.

From what government science techs can tell, the storm isn't natural - after all, even the meteorologists were saying that the pressure systems seemed extremely strange. They've managed to narrow the cause to an area in the delta where the storm seems to be originating from, and are broadcasting the general location so anyone with the guts can head out into the storm and try to find the source of it.

Any characters who decide to penetrate the jungle in search of the source will find a device in the shape of a pyramid, with glowing blue edges about a day's walk into the Abandoned City. The pyramid is a malfunctioning weather control device that is causing wild pressure fluctuations and causing the storm as well as making the animals in the jungle aggressive and erratic. Characters can destroy or deactivate the device to end the storm.

This mission can be threaded out however you would like, in groups however large you would like, and more than one team can accomplish the goal.

prompt v: wildcard/network

Whether you're looking for help with a mission or just want to get to know your fellow new arrivals, your character can make a post to the network.

Or you can choose your own adventure and do something else in the setting!

navigation

Comments

[uglyminded]

[ She glowers, her tattoos moving slowly enough to look almost still. ]

I'm fine. I wasn't the one carrying a hundred pounds of pulverized rock.

[ Also her bones are made of aircraft-grade ceramic and her muscles have been artificially enhanced. So. There's that. ]

[diagenesis]

[He's not a man given over to excessive humour, but her statement earns a dry chuckle. He can infer her meaning just fine.]

Sounds like perhaps you should consider writing your own.

[With as many tits as make her happy.]

[divulsion]

[Wanda lifts her side of the table as he does, carrying her end evenly with his and without strain. When it seems that they're ready, she begins guiding him back toward the front door, glad that it opens outward.

The subject of orphans is one that's close and personal to Wanda, but she's had more time to become accustomed to the loss of her parents, more than she's had to adjust to the fate of Novi Grad and Pietro.]

One could say that we've all been orphaned, cut off from the worlds we were born to. But yes, that is the basic gist of my plan.

[She's not a woman who typically tries to inspire a sense of community spirit in others, but they're in this together whether they like it or not, and it seems too good an opportunity to ignore.]

[diagenesis]

Poetic.

[An observation rather than a mockery. In all honesty, he agrees with the sentiment, it's almost alarmingly astute, given their respective situations here. What sway does piracy hold when its shores know nothing of Nassau? He has been asking himself that question. It's as if he's gone into hiding again, for the very first time. Flint emerged from the tatters of his last life. Is he too much that man to discard him and start anew? Difficult to say.

He shifts his hands on the table until he's balancing its weight on the palm of the right, and then he pushes behind him with his left to open the door. He props it open on his shoulder and then one awkward foot as he steps out and down onto the ground, to keep the door from banging against the table and disrupting them.]

I'm sure our fellow castaways will appreciate your efforts.

[arsebiscuit]

Bah, that's bard shite, yeah? Let them make the pretty words, I'll stick to watching pockets.

[She's never shy about being a thief in general, but a few rounds in? It's all fair game now. She plants an elbow on the table, using the palm of her non-drink holding hand to support her chin.]

But you go on an' sing your...whatsit. Lay me, Susie? Song.

[divulsion]

[Wanda manages a half-shrug at his response, carefully moving the table through the door with Flint, stepping quickly forward to help catch the door before it closes against the table.

It may be poetic, but to her it's merely a sentiment she's familiar with. Loss of the things that birthed and supported her, helped her to grow and flourish.]

If they decide to join me, of course, otherwise I may find myself with leftovers to last me at a week or two. Castaways is perhaps a better way to think of ourselves, however. Do you know if there's a patron saint of castaways, James? Or perhaps one for those who are lost...

[diagenesis]

[He waits until they've set the table down at its destined location to speak again. He does so idly, with both hands planted flat on the table.]

You'd think, with the ubiquity of the saints that there would be one for castaways. But no, not so far as I'm aware. Davy Jones, perhaps, though he's no patron figure. I've known sailors to be a rather godless lot until storms or shipwrecks are imminent in their future.

[diagenesis]

[Oh she's charming. He has a sort of innate distaste for thievery, a remnant of life in London, yet even those old sensibilities can't find fault in such flagrancy. He's known this girl for all of thirty seconds and already he's wondering if she could keep secret about anything if she tried. He quite likes her.]

Mind whose pockets you watch, Miss. I doubt everyone is tolerant of quick hands.

[He hooks one boot on the crossrail of his stool and shifts his posture just slightly. He doesn't take her comment as a cue to guard himself against theft, but then he's been dealing with cutpurses all his life and knows light fingers when they make an attempt on his belongings.]

To the rest, I'm not the singing sort.

[divulsion]

[Wanda lifts her end briefly to adjust the angle, but leaves it as it is after, gaze flicking to James after a moment. She gives him a small, amused smile.]

Somehow that doesn't surprise me. I'd think you'd want to ward off Davy Jones rather than pray to him, however.

[With a tilt of her head, she moves back toward the door to grab the second table.]

If there isn't much religion among pirates is there at least celebrations of sort? Holidays or festivals celebrated?

[arsebiscuit]

Miss?

[That sends her into a bad fit of the giggles. Forget the rest. It's a pure, unabashed laughing fit, without any attempt at covering her mouth or hiding the snorting.]

Andraste's lovely nips, I look like any kinda respectable sort? Sera. That's all I am.

[diagenesis]

[Still with the notion of piracy. Flint's smile is crooked.]

Some Navy men do a line-crossing ceremony. It's made its way into those of a piratical persuasion, no doubt. There's value seen in having made more than one journey across the equator. Sailing makes a hard man iron, after all.

[Unbidden, he starts the process of fitting out the table. There are tablecloths folded nearby, he selects one and drapes it expertly across the tabletop.]

Nassau is quite colourfully multicultural. I imagine the pirates among them celebrate all manner of things, traditions from the Orient, the dark continent-- the Ottoman Empire. I know plenty who celebrate Christmas, and who fast for Ramadan.

[diagenesis]

[He lifts his glass in an indication of acknowledgement, and once he's taken a drink he offers her a hand for shaking.]

James.

[i_had_faith]

"I've been told that my idea of adventure is a bit...radical." At least that's what Edwin had implied, surely. "Besides, I'd rather see what's out there that doesn't want to be seen." She didn't survive the SSR without developing a healthy curiosity.

[divulsion]

[At once, Wanda wants to put her hands out, to tell James to stop, that he doesn't need to fuss with that when all she asked for was help with moving the tables. But she holds herself back, less inclined to stop the man when he's generously being helpful. So, instead, she reaches forward for the other end of the table cloth and settles one end as he sees to the other.]

What exactly does a line-crossing ceremony? It's not as stiff and formal as it sounds, is it?

[The temptation to ask which he might celebrate is something she resists. For anyone it could be a highly personal question, and for Flint, she can only imagine that he would grow withdrawn once more.]

[diagenesis]

[He barks a laugh, smoothes the tablecloth down. His rings glint in the light, and he adjusts them until they don't shine quite so boldly.]

Usually the saltiest man among them dresses up as King Neptune, occasionally another poor bugger will play his wife Amphitrite. It's all very festive, great care goes into the costumes. Wigs are ordered from London, clothing stolen from all manner of wives and daughters before the journey. Those that have yet to cross the line are tarred with whatever grotesqueries the ship's hold yields, and then promptly dunked in salt water and shaved.

[toolatetochangethename]

Yeah, well, what isn't?

[Don't get him wrong: he's a fan of the whole superpower thing, and the suit is totally his jam, but really. Ant Man. Hank Pym just does not know when he's not being clever.]

Knock Out. [Scuse him while he tries not to snicker. And fails at it.] Really. Like, what a knock out? Or like the punch?

[And just like that, Ant Man doesn't seem quite so lame.]

You are missing nothing. Tony Stark is a jerk.

[arsebiscuit]

[She takes a long swig out of hers in turn. Skipping for the toast straight to the cheers.]

Okay, James. You don't sing, don't pocket pick, an' don't go messin' out in storms like the rest of the dumb lot. What's it you get up to?

[automobile_enthusiast]

Imagine being named Dent. Or Blot.

[Hey, no fair being rude to the cyb who was just-- rude to you.... Never mind.

Knock Out huffs his vents and stands back on his heels, cocking his hips showily.] Like 'what a knock out' and like a punch-- [He suits action to word, smacking one fist into the other palm with a metallic clang.] We like our names to mean something where I come from, thank you.

[He laughs.] I'll have to make a note to avoid him; I have enough jerks in my life already.

[divulsion]

[She doesn't even try to hold back her own laughter, because the idea of some old sailor dressing up as Neptune and another forced into a dress to play his wife all to tease and torment the young ones through a rite of passage.

Eyes sparkling with mischief, she steps away from the table and heads for the lobby door once more, intending to retrieve the second table.]

That sounds disgusting and entertaining all at once. [Which is to say, she'd like to see it.] Have you ever have the honor of being dunked overboard yourself?

[Oops, it's a personal question that slipped right out.]

[diagenesis]

[He overtakes her in a matter of steps, for the express purpose of holding the door and with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow,]

You think any man would dare?

[Yeah he's not going to answer that directly, but it goes without saying he endured such a fate. He was a young man once, and considerably more... diffident.]

[diagenesis]

Oh, I've been out in the storm.

[He's still soaked through to the bone, he demonstrates this keen fact by wringing the tail of his coat for her amusement.]

But to answer your question directly, I'm a carpenter.

[It's as good an occupation as many, and one he needn't pretend at. He was at his father's knee learning a trade long before he was a Navy man. His hands are rough and broad, calloused in all the places one would expect and his many rings won through the hard conquest of piracy have been tucked away. Whoever he decides to be here, Flint is not a mandatory monster.]

[divulsion]

[The gesture is appreciated, and Wanda pauses midway through the door to meet his smile and raised eyebrow with one of her own. She reaches toward him to poke his mid-section briefly.]

I think you made a lovely Amphitrite the second time you crossed.

[Wanda sails into the lobby and heads to the second table, already bending to grab her end of it just as she had the time before.]

[diagenesis]

[He tenses a little as she pokes at him, but he's not had to cultivate the knife's edge wariness one needs just to stay alive in Nassau here. He would never be one to underestimate a woman in a fight - he'd take Anne Bonny at his back before a great many men - but Wanda doesn't strike him as someone who's had considerable CQC experience besides.

He takes the gesture as it was meant, in goodwill, and just shakes his head as he follows her inside.]

I did tell you it was a tradition in His Majesty's Navy, did I not? Does that mean you've given up this notion of piracy?

[staystrong]

[Using the term "organic planets" makes it sound like the place he comes from is completely made out of machines. Like a whole planet just created from metal. Maybe that's not so implausible given what she's been learning here.]

I'm Clementine.

[Knock Out would be a weird name for a human being, but somehow it seems fairly reasonable for a robot. She's not sure whether or not it would have felt stranger for him to call himself something like "George".]

Is this gonna work out alright for you?

[automobile_enthusiast]

I'd say it's a pleasure, but this is not the most pleasurable situation. [And Knock Out reserves the right to be human-racist, even if this particular one has been perfectly reasonable and pleasant so far.]

Certainly. I can weather out the worst of it here. I'll try not to abuse your hospitality, my dear~.