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

[starspangled]

Bucky, wait!

[his first instinct is to go after him, it has been since 1943. steve watches his back, but then the rain starts to kick in a little, the wind whips at his clothing. what if bucky doesn't find shelter? what if he runs beyond the fences altogether?

steve runs after him, though that little hesitation might be all the headstart that bucky needed. either way, steve won't stop looking for him until the storm absolutely forces him to.]

[batbullets]

Jason rolls his eyes and pulls out one of the guns. He brings it up and points it directly at Ronan. "Just so you're aware, I have no compunction killing people. I've done it enough times before." Though not like this. Jason only kills the people who deserve it - criminals, monsters, the really bad guys. The ones who would kill without remorse and treat it like a joke. He lowers the gun after maybe a beat too long, holstering it again.

Maybe a little self-consciously, he runs a hand through his short, raven-black hair. There had been a white streak there when Jason had clawed his way out of his grave after being brought back to life, but the Lazarus Pit had done away with it - along with his all of his scars and everything else. In some ways, he'd become a blank slate. In others, he'd been saddled with way too much history. "I'm like twenty-two," he adds with a frown. Even Damian hadn't called him gramps, and Damian was the demon brat that hell had spat out.

Possibly literally, given his name.

"Don't worry, son. I don't do too well with friends anyway." Except for maybe a handful of people. Roy. Kori. Artemis and Bizarro, kind of. Sometimes Dick and Babs.

He looks out the window of the truck to see them approaching the fence, and he sets his mouth in a grim line. "Looks like we're almost there." His eyes tick back to Ronan. "You ready for this?"

[advanced]

[It's the notebook that's Bucky's downfall.

The stupid little notebook that he started to keep only a couple of months back, full of scraps of paper cut out from news articles about the Avengers, and his own notes in stilted writing about what little he remembers. It falls out of his pocket and he stops. He can't leave it, it feels like a lifeline, and scooping it out of the puddle gives Steve time to catch him up.

The rain is hammering down now, the wind strong enough to even knock Bucky's bulk sideways every few seconds, and he has to plant himself like a tree to keep from being knocked down. He doesn't run again, but his entire stance gives off hostility in waves.

He doesn't speak.]

[starspangled]

[he doesn't want to fight him. it feels like the most unnatural thing in the world to fight bucky, and it puts steve on the defensive, in a mindset of protecting bucky from other people as much as protecting them from bucky, with no room for thoughts of himself.

he doesn't want it to come to that. the notebook gives him hope that it won't, because he's seen what's inside of it, if only a little.

they're both drenched, hair and clothes slicked down against them. steve's breathing heavy in a way that has little to do with the run.]

There's a house back that way. [steve nods his head in the direction, but he never takes his eye off of his friend.] They'll let us in. I won't say a word, just please get in out of this.

[advanced]

No.

[The wind is loud and his words are always quiet these days, but he knows Steve will hear him all the same. Super soldier hearing is an impressive thing, after all.]

You go. Get away. Get in.

[His words have become choppier, but he doesn't care. He still doesn't trust himself staying in a house with people, and with Steve is a whole extra level of danger that seems utterly stupid to ignore.]

I'll find somewhere alone.

[starspangled]

I can't do that.

[just as quiet. but his conscious would never let him, and while he wants to trust bucky, steve can just as easily imagine him wandering around in the storm all day.

they're at an impasse, but they have to come up with a solution.]

We can find a place, something unoccupied. I'll leave you alone there, I promise.

[advanced]

I can find somewhere.

[He doesn't want Steve following him. The tentative ease that sprang up is so easily blown away now, and he wants to make himself disappear again. He can keep tabs on Steve from the shadows.]

I told you to go.

ii.

[brav]

[ It should probably be a little more disappointing that someone so young is out here fighting. But the actual sad part comes with the fact that Allison's used to that, used to kids playing hero. She was barely seventeen herself when she really started training, and this girl must be a lot younger than that.

But maybe it's the kinship of the battling youth that immediately has Allison feeling a sense of respect for this young girl that's out here like her own little soldier, speaking up like a leader herself. ]

You're right. [ Her teeth clamp onto an arrow, adjusting the string of her crossbow before taking the stick from her bow to reload. ] We can take high ground and try to knock out some of the front crowd. It won't stop them permanently, they'll keep coming in for sure, but it can give the rest of the team time to reinforce it. [ Team is a weird word for a group of strangers, but Allison hasn't had time to be picky. ]

[naz]

With a smile, Caitlin nods. "That's how I figure. If we're not helping right this second, that won't take away from the fact that we're helping if we can find somewhere safer for everyone to be." She pauses and gives an awkward soft of facial shrug. "On the other hand, if we find nothing...then I guess we're not necessarily being that helpful, but it's better to try and fail than not to try at all, right?" she asks.

Caitlin watches as he surveys the room. He's probably looking for a good direction to start and Caitlin can't fault that. She probably would've done it already except that she hadn't been entirely sure he'd be interested in coming along and she doesn't feel like venturing outside alone with this sort of weather on the way and in the dark in a largely unfamiliar place is a great idea. She's glad when he seems receptive and even more glad when he chooses a direction and starts toward the door. Caitlin walks quickly to catch up and then matches his stride, taking the offered flashlight.

"Too bad, too, because I bet that would make things a whole lot easier," she thinks to herself with a pang of sadness as she realizes...Cisco would've had something to solve that problem and if he didn't, he'd make it. Once again, she feels a wave of guilt for feeling whatever it was that she felt strongly enough to get sucked here when she ought to be home helping them prepare to save Iris from Savitar.

As they head outside, Caitlin clicks on the flashlight preemptively. "Now let's just hope neither of these crap out on us. That's always a bad sign," she says, only half joking as she starts looking around with a sweeping motion of the flashlight beam and her eyes. If the building itself has a storm shelter, the likelihood is that it'll be nearby. She's never really seen a storm cellar that was more than a football field's length away from the home of the people to whom the cellar belongs, so she can't imagine it'll be a whole lot different in the case of a building, either. That's still plenty of space to house a lot of people, if it's built right, anyway.

ii.

[brav]

[ She shouldn't be here. She doesn't want to be here, already feeling the tension of awkwardness that comes from it. Seeking a date isn't exactly her idea of an immediate priority in a strange place, but sitting by and sharpening arrowheads in her room by herself was probably just as bad as an idea. She could at least try making friends.

Speed dating probably wasn't the right place for platonic engagements but she could hear Lydia in her head going "smile, Allison!" so she attempts that at least, lips pressing tightly together in a weird attempt to curve upward.

Mostly she wants to roll her eyes with the amusement. ] Really? Do they sparkle and gleam like a passionate fire? [ She immediately scrunches up her nose at her own bad sarcasm, shaking her head and reaching out to shake the held out hand. ] Sorry. Allison.

[brav]

[ Oh. Well, see? That was easier than expected. All it took was a little socializing and actually getting out there to find a fellow nice human being. What really captures Allison is that she's probably just as young as she is, which is definitely a comforting thought when you think you're on your own.

And her hair, the red of it, it's nostalgic. She thinks of fiery Lydia and how she'd be like if she was out here, probably stomping her way through this hallway without Allison's hesitation. ]

Thank you! You're a total life saver, really. [ She bites her lip, a slight nervous laugh trickling out. ] Yeah, actually. No matches on me. I'm probably not the least bit prepared for this storm.

[somnioergosum]

Ronan blinked at the movement of the gun but it was only a reflex. Regarding it, his face was the impassive and not the kind one would mistake for bravado. He'd seen far, far worse than a gun or two. It didn't diminish the lethality of the weapons but he knew that Jason wouldn't use them on him now. He also knew that there were worse fates than a shot to the head.

Like a tire iron.

Ronan didn't take his eyes off Jason.

"If you're on the verge of a midlife crisis, don't call me 'kid,'" Ronan said once Jason had finished going through his internal age crisis. If he were his brother, he would have topped that one off with a "dur." As he was Ronan, and a great deal less of a cream puff, it went unspoken.

james flint ☠ black sails

[diagenesis]

→ when you tell a pirate to batten


[The differences in enduring the storms of Nassau are not so significant in this foreign place that Flint feels his expertise to be lacking. All things begin the same. There are no sails to stow, no rigging to lash, but the backbreaking work of irrigation ditching and the filling of sandbags still needs done.

He tosses a shovel to the nearest able-bodied person. Male or female, storms hardly discriminate and in this, neither does he.]

You there. Give me a hand with this.

[His tone is firm, authoritative. Obviously not a man used to hearing go fuck yourself (though there has been plenty of that in his life, it's usually ignored or rescinded at the point of a sword where necessary).]


→ 'all my friends are dead' but lovers are dandy too

[Flint was forged by circumstance, McGraw by the happenstance of life. Neither are needed here, strictly speaking, in the capacity he is accustomed to existing. He discusses nothing with no one who does not earn his confidence, but he knows what it is to integrate seamlessly into a thing. Once, it was the Navy. Then piracy, then captaincy. He cannot liberate Nassau from a world beyond worlds. One cannot keep a promise when one is removed from its place of reckoning.

His manners are not so courtly now as they once were. But he makes token appearances when and where people expect. In this instance: dance lessons. He has not bothered keeping up to date with London's fashions, but Miranda (and Thomas) enjoyed the baroque styles of the courts. They spent more than one evening together in step to music only they three could hear. The man he used to be even came to enjoy it.

Now, it serves as only one thing: a way to learn. No spy, no turncoat he. But in lieu of a brothel, any place that encourages fraternization is the next best place for information, and Flint can be charming when put to task.

He has no reason to expect this place is any kinder about men asking another man to dance here than it was in the golden age of piracy, so he focuses on the women that enter the hall and eventually picks one out.]

Beg pardon. [Hell, he even dredges up that old London elocution.] May I have this dance?

[if approached by a man, he would politely but firmly turn them down, though it might inspire him to ask questions about how freely it was done.]

ii monster madness

[somnioergosum]

[Full disclosure- I played Cassie and Coat once upon a time and seeing your Sylvie has made me happy.]

Cronuts?

[Oh no. No kittens for Ronan, thanks. He doesn't need another magical creature. Especially not one made from God only knew what magic. Ronan nudges the kitten out of the way.

His own beast is roaring around in the skies somewhere, a mimic of his previous albino beast. There are glimpses of it in the night, white scales flashing as it tears into creatures. But it's beyond his control. It operates under one idea: protect.

So Ronan Lynch is standing there trying to find something to rip apart by himself. Instead, his lip isn't split and he has not a speck of blood o him all because of this girl. She's just... flinging around magic like he's never seen outside of a dream. He hates to admit it, but he's kind of impressed. And there's no way in hell that he'll admit he's a little scared, too.]

Why the fuck would you want a cronut even if we weren't--

[He pauses as this creature that looks like it might have come out of a nightmare, just not his own, lunges at him. Fortunately, he's dealt things that have a lot more beaks, claws, and relentless intent to kill him. So he just grabs it by the neck. This is what he's been waiting for.]

Fighting for our lives!

[The thing throws Ronan off its neck quite literally. He rolls from the momentum and almost hits the foolish cat.

Now he can own up to the fact that he's scared. It's alright. He just won't tell anyone else and he can forget it after a drink or five.]

[zethir]

[Earth. Simple, to the point, she supposes. There's certainly no mistaking what it is, at least.]

Radine galaxy, planet Teru. I'm from a country called Askoupur but at the time I was brought here I was down south in Rhevidjan.

[Names which will all mean nothing to him, of course.] I can explain it all later sometime if you like. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself? We don't have much time per round, I think. Would hate to get caught up the details without getting to the heart of who you are and what your story is.

[zethir]

Oh, I see.

[When he says mistake, he means himself. Not her. Bryn looks over at the bag in his hand and the way he holds it. As if he could use it to fend off any unwelcome advances.

Nevermind that all she's doing is sitting there. It takes effort but she manages not to laugh at the image the thought conjures.]

Well, I'm the last person who'll keep you somewhere you don't want to be, but if you'd like to make a friend you're welcome to stay for a few minutes.

2

[nadryv]

[He goes where the fighting is. That has always been his way. Where there is none, often he becomes the genesis of such a thing.

Here, separated from his allies, his country, and his purpose (his priorities shift. more than they should. some days, each of them means more than others) he has little recourse. When the call to arms comes, he goes. He sits in the transport, utterly still save the very, very faint click of his heel against the floor. Barely perceptible.

It is not nerves. To fight is expected. Death is inevitable. There are no old spies, and one does not retire from the KGB. If anything, he is-- anticipatory. When the woman speaks, his attention snaps to her like a gunshot.]

No.

[His accent is so obvious, that one word gives away his country of origin to anyone familiar with the region. He can hide it, of course. He is a spy, it is what they do. When it serves its purpose, he can just as easily be from America, from Australia, from Germany. Today, he is Russian and that alone.]

It makes no difference.

[zethir]

[Bryn looks over where the younger girl directs her and almost says a prayer of thanks to Jhirem and the Twelve at the sight of that water.]

Thanks so much.

[It doesn't take her any extra effort to abandon her cart in favor of soothing a parched throat. The work may be rewarding but it's still hard and at this point the agent feels like she's earned a break. Stopping over by the table, she glances back to the teen, giving her a quick, assessing glance. It's a matter of habit. She'd been watching her while working in the same area, noticing the way she lugged things around.]

How's your back doing?

batten down.

[laveers]

[ She has one good dress, sacrificed from the knees down (though pride has kept the bracelets and necklaces) is already holding a shovel looking for a suitable place to start digging. ]

Begin. I will find one more, or we won't finish before the storm hits.

[diagenesis]

[The only immediate response he has for that is to raise one eyebrow faintly, but ultimately he shrugs. Of all the people in his life, both as McGraw and later as Flint, who have seen fit to boss him around, he has always minded it the least from women.]

Best hurry, then.

[He knows storms, the sweep and swell of them. This one is closer than he likes, but the solid ground beneath their feet is better than the rolling deck of a ship as far as odds for survival go.]

[staystrong]

Uh.

[The robot is also a car. A somewhat small car? She doesn't know with sports cars. Those weren't usually what she had access to. People kept stuff with more durability and less upkeep.

Hadn't there been some toy line that involved transforming robots? She doesn't remember. When she'd been able to appreciate them she still considered that sort of thing as being for boys. It doesn't matter much now. The last thing on her mind is collecting action figures.]

Can you stay that way the whole time? [She starts walking around toward the back of her house even as she asks this.] I don't want you turning back at a bad moment.

[zethir]

[The accent isn't the first thing that Bryn noticed about Illya when he stepped onto the transport. She'd looked everyone over as a matter of habit. Noted heights. Builds. Those who carried obvious weapons and those who did not. There was body language to observe, conversations to listen to.

And then there were some she couldn't get a proper read on at all. The man opposite her didn't fidget. Didn't talk. Didn't seem to be doing anything but waiting for them to arrive. If anyone there in the transport is with him, she couldn't tell. It's part of why she spoke up, tried to engage him in conversation.]

Maybe, maybe not. But having intel at the start does save us the trouble of figuring out tactics in the field.

[Knowing how intelligent the monsters were or if any of them were venomous could be useful, after all.]

I'm Bryn. You?

[nadryv]

[He has many identities. Passports are poor currency here, and yet he could easily lie. My name is Aleksander Vasiliev. Anton Mikhailov. Ivan. At any one time there are a hundred cover stories at his fingertips. He has grown used to making them account for two others, now absent. Sometimes he and Solo are brothers, as often now as when he and Gabriella play at husband and wife.

His fingers flex against his palm but there is no great rage in him that threatens to shake him apart at the rivets. He exhales calmly, and glances past the canvas fabric covering the back of the truck to watch the passing trees.]

I have heard it said that no plan survives first contact with the enemy.

[That was downright chatty of him. Solo's influence, it seems.]

And I am Illya.

monster madness

[acrosstheplains]

Amir wasn't even armed with a laser gun; in her arms was a bow, sharply curved at both ends, which looked like it had been hewn at least partially from animal horn. She had arrived on a different transport, and she looked caught between nervous anticipation and excitement at the prospect of the task ahead.

"Hello!" she called to Derek as the others began to split up into patrols. "You are here to help? Let's go this way!"

'This way' appeared to be in the opposite direction along the fence as most were heading.

monster madness.

[brav]

She could have kept helping out back in the Quarantine, putting in more assistance towards storm preparations and the relief efforts. But Allison doesn't take the safe routes if the opportunity comes up and so a call for volunteers in fighting mysterious beasts puts her at the front line in loading up onto a truck and riding it out to the fence. Immediately, she knows she stands out, being of the more youthful minority within the volunteers, as well as lacking the girth of testosterone that seems to excel when everyone begins to start loading off of the trucks.

But that hardly defers her confidence, boots trekking through the mud and through the clustered crowd of fighters like she belongs there. Crossbow in hand and arrow in teeth, she's already preparing the weapon, getting it situated to take any immediate shots.

Her teeth clamp down on the metal, however, when the line of unfamiliar men hoping off the latest truck follows with a very familiar one. It's not a face she's fond of, and definitely not the first body from home she'd been hoping to find here. Even the last time she'd seen Derek, fighting alongside him in a situation not too dissimilar from this, she wasn't too keen on the idea of placing all of her trust in him like the rest of them did. But in a world as strange as this, familiarity goes a long way, even with a Hale. Plopping the arrow from her mouth, she loads it into her crossbow while looking forward, picking up her pace to walk in step with him as he makes his way towards the fence.

"Upgraded from the claws?" She gestures with her chin at the gun sticking out of his pocket, her eyes facing more towards the fence than at him. It's one way to say hello.