TEST DRIVE MEME #1
| TEST DRIVE #1 |
The universe is fading into a bitter, cold blackness. Planet by planet, star by star, life is disappearing. For the good ship Koska IV there is no return voyage, there is no home, there is only forward. Behind it is the devastating emptiness of a life devoured, and the threat of an unseen enemy always at its heels. It can be argued perhaps that where the Kostka goes death follows, that it leaves ruin in its wake. If you ask Ripley, though, she'll say that they're only just managing to outrun the inevitable. Waking up aboard the ship feels strangely like waking up in a mausoleum. You emerge from your cryo pod like climbing out from a tomb, born new into a world long gone silent and still. The monolithic vessel now exists as a ghost town, halls dimly lit with emergency power, the only sounds being the mechanical ticking and groaning metal of the Kostka, laboring on like a wounded, burdened beast. Don’t mind the dust, the grime or the occasional blood splatter; cleaning is a nonessential function the droids don’t have energy to waste on. Kostka IV, once a transport designed for leisure cruises to and from new colonies, hobbles along on her last leg, urged on and on by the AI left to command her - R.I.P., affectionately termed ‘Ripley’ by her now absent crew. The sprawling, shadowy halls are only trafficked by Ripley’s minimal team of droids, the least that she can spare in straining her corrupted processes, much of both the ship and her systems in dire disrepair. Preserve organic life: Ripley’s primary, core directive and singular focus, the one goal above all else, which must be met, no matter the cost. And now, your goal too, as on Kostka IV, though crippled, Ripley is God, and the body your consciousness inhabits now is not your own - a semi-organic, synthetic host that morphs to fit the form you left, rather than the skin you were born to. You were saved from what is coming (for her, for you, for everyone), because Ripley needs more hands to keep this last ark of humanity afloat, as the ship struggles to find safe harbor, making stops along the way to pick up resources, to search for life. To find a home, and a future, for us all. ( Kostka is a panfandom, scifi, survival/horror jamjar, with elements of psychological and body horror (in varying, opt-out-able levels) peppered along with your general monster movie fair, driven by character interaction and influence with heavy meta-plot guided by regular mod events. Set on a mobile ship traversing through differing dimensions, characters are transported into semi-organic, synthetic bodies that replicate their canon form, able to be upgraded with powers through bonus AC rewards, and brought onto the crew to assist a debilitated AI in escaping a force destroying the multiverse, while they seek to salvage what remains of life. Events will feature some known canon worlds (like Resident Evil, Silent Hill, Bioshock, etc), along with some uniquely built between mods and player world-building. This game is invite-only, and we have a player cap of 30, with two character slots available for each player. The game has been inspired by: Battlestar Galactica, SOMA, Altered Carbon, Mass Effect, Passengers, Black Mirror, and various others. )
A spark of electricity convulses through your body, and you jolt awake - underwater. Or, at least, that's most peoples' first guess. The color is more vibrant than water should be, and heavier, your body feeling sluggish against the weight and drag of it. Or perhaps you're just slower to respond, distant, limbs and mind still drowsy and reeling. The bright fluid doesn't sting when you blink, if anything, it's soothing, healing, calming. Fortunate, that, because you're going to need it. As the pod-like chamber you're held in starts to drain of the liquid, your senses start to flood back in. Awareness filters in like a window curtain holding back the morning sun, gradually easing away with each inch the water line lowers. There's something on your face - a mask, strapped around the back of your head, and other thinner tendrils against your cheeks, your ears, your neck. Narrow tubes are channeled through in your nostrils, and cables have slithered in through your ears, plugging into God knows what on the inside of your skull. There's a click that you feel more than hear, and the tension on them slacks, disconnected from somewhere inside you. Pull - up, back, to the side, whichever way you want - and they start to drag free. Far from the most pleasant feeling (likely leaves you wanting to crawl right out of your skin), but it doesn't quite hurt or burn, yet. That's for the inch wide tube shoved down your throat and held in place by the mask. It's also what's keeping you breathing underneath this blue space-goo though, so maybe don't go yanking it off until the lid of your pod opens. As the fluid drains, a voice crackles in over the sound of water oscillating around your ears. Not something played from a speaker anywhere, nothing projected on a screen, and whether the cables are still in your ears or not, you hear her all the same, as if she's more inside your head than she is broadcasting over a speaker inside the pod or coming muffled from outside. Even still, it's stuttered and interrupted, like the connection is weak, interference like static white noise buzzing through and covering up parts of sentences. ❝ I don’t have a lot of tim— RIP can’t spare the power to run this more t—, so pay attention. At the end of the long lines of cryo pods, the halls meet at a small medbay. It seems some merciful someone has left a stack of thin, cloth sheets on one of the medbay tables, so it's best you pick one up, towel off a bit, and then toga it, until you find something more durable. Hopefully, at some point, someone will discover a door leading to a storage room is unlocked. There, you'll find some very stylish, bright orange jumpsuits. With luck, you'll make it there before you freeze. NETWORK ⬡ AKA; welcome to Kostka IV, Have Some K-Pop While Projection is not yet available, all HOST bodies share free access to a neural network through which they can communicate via text, audio, or video. One of the first things the HOST platform will prompt the new mind housed inside it will be to set up a sequence of finger taps to open up the network HUD. The system is fairly intuitive, and all one need do is reach up a hand to touch the option they wish to select. For text, a keyboard overlay will appear in the HOST's visual perception, and, dy default, all messages will show: a name, a username, and an ID code. Feel free to make these up as you like. These can be adjusted, and a HOST can post anonymously to the network as well (no guarantees Ripley can't trace it back to the origin, but she's not going to tell). There are no real rules on the usage of this network, aside from don't try to hack your friends, or your not-friends (just don't hack anyone, okay, it's rude). Ripley does understand the human need to socialize, especially in trying and stressful circumstances, so have at it kids. Ripley, however, will be making one quick announcement that she will not be capable of replying to just yet - waking you jerks up took a lot out of her, so give her some time. The voice that you hear doesn't come through any speaker or intercom around you, nor is it originating from any of the bodies or droids nearby. You hear what sounds like a young girl speaking as if inside your head, and she sounds exhausted: ❝ ATTENTION ALL CREW: This is Ripley. MAINTENANCE ⬡ AKA; get that human skull out of the filtration tank pls, or u stepped on a droid and now it's mad. We're hoping you had time to get over the Bambi legs and get your space legs under you (as well as some space pants onto your body), because Ripley expended a lot of processing power to waking you up. That means it's up to you to make up the difference and get to work cleaning this place up to make it habitable for you and your new crewmates. It's been nothing but RIP and her droids for the last who knows how long, so those things that need to be functioning for the continued survival of organic bodies need to get working. Here's the chores on the docket: ⬡ Water Filtration; Hydration - always a must for you squishy, fleshy things, isn't it? The canal that runs through the Ring atrium is a large part of the reserves, and at one dark innocuous end an uncomfortable grinding noise can be heard. Beneath the surface of the water where there should be wall, there is instead an enormous fan about ten feet in diameter. It's grinding so loud the sound escapes the water barrier, and the cause is pretty clear. There's something wedged between one of the fan blades and the circular housing it's contained in. Someone will need to dive down ten or twelve feet and unstick the human skull stopping the filtration system from running. Beware, though — the second it's free the fan blades will begin spinning, sucking gallons upon gallons of water down into the depths. Hope you can swim!Good luck, have fun, try not to die because Ripley's exhausted from waking you up, and the droids suck at first aid— not to mention, very stiff bedside manner. VR / SAFETY TRAINING ⬡ AKA; ur gonna die a lot because space sucks. Let's face it, we weren't all born ready to space labor, or even space living. Loath as Ripley is to expend the power reserves on VR, the lot of you need to be trained up and the droids lack that personal touch that inspires excellence. RIP will be taking point on this assignment.It's a One Time Offer (well, we're calling it that now): the crew working away has freed up some CPU for Ripley, and because positive reinforcement is proven to work well on new puppies, she is rewarding you with Brain Stimulating Activities (aka safety training (or not)). This ship, especially dilapidated and running on emergency power as it is, is a dangerous place to be, even without the endless vacuum of space waiting outside to murder the absolute shit out of you. Characters will be given a VR visor, droids tapping a few buttons on a nearby console, and zipping away. Which, regretfully, means you won't be getting a warning or a say in what you're walking into, but walking into it you are, none-the-less. Sort of. Virtual walking. ⬡ Space walk; The Kostka IV has seen her fair share of daring battles and random asteroid clusters, leaving the frame of the beast of a ship pock-marked with damage. There's weakened structure, thermal panels missing, guns that don't want to get un-stuck and retract back into their housing. All kinds of nonsense. It's your job to tend to all that. Instructional videos will crop up on your HUD, walking you through your repairs, but that's assuming you can get to your spot at all, rather drift off into the sparkling black nether of the universe. Keep a good grip on the handrails outside. Now and again, something might give a quick, sharp shove, like hands against your side or your arm, attempting to dislodge you. Hold on tight, don't be tricked, and don't get lost. » NAVIGATION « General questions about the game can be directed to the FAQ, while TDM questions can be answered on the comment header below! Awakening threads for GOOD MORNING, STARSHINE, MAINTENANCE and NETWORK can be used as game canon so long as all parties agree. Arrivals are on Day 1, while the other two prompts can take place any time during the first 5 IC days of the game timeline. The VR PROMPTS diverge a bit from what we have planned for the opening and cannot be used to game canon, so please feel free to get creative with those! Reserves will open on: March 1st @ 8PM EST Applications will open on: March 5th @ 8PM EST |

A spark of electricity convulses through your body, and you jolt awake - underwater.
While Projection is not yet available, all HOST bodies share free access to a
We're hoping you had time to get over the Bambi legs and get your space legs under you (as well as some space pants onto your body), because Ripley expended a lot of processing power to waking you up. That means it's up to you to make up the difference and get to work cleaning this place up to make it habitable for you and your new crewmates.
Let's face it, we weren't all born ready to space labor, or even space living. Loath as Ripley is to expend the power reserves on VR, the lot of you need to be trained up and the droids lack that personal touch that inspires excellence. RIP will be taking point on this assignment.
john proudstar; the gifted
[ he's had rude awakenings before. he's woken up beaten and battered, shot and stabbed, but this might be the first time he's woken up underwater.
no, not underwater. this isn't water. calm. he has to stay calm before if this is sentinel services or the inner circle, panicking isn't going to help. he tries to breathe and realizes there's a mask on his face.
he tries to swim but his arms and legs don't want to move. he stays like that, trying to think of a way out of this when the blue liquid starts to drain away.
it drains and drains until he spills out onto the floor, naked as the day he was born and covered in viscous material. ]
Ow.
[ definite rude awakening. ]
II ➣ ➣ ➣ MAINTENANCE (GARDEN)
[ if there's one thing that john doesn't have, it's a green thumb. plants make a nice decoration, sure, but he tends to leave their care to someone who won't merely look at the damn thing and send it into a death spiral. he's better at other things.
yet, here he is, wandering around the garden and letting his fingers pass over various leaves. one of the plants actually lunges at him and he steps back quickly, holding up a hand in surrender. ]
God, I'm running from a plant. Where the hell am I?
[ the one hundred thousand dollar question. ]
III ➣ ➣ ➣ WILDCARD
[ hit me up if you wanna do something different! ]
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any other time, she might appreciate the fact that they're both naked. right now, her own nudity just feels like vulnerability and his isn't something she even thinks to enjoy. ]
You okay? [ she asks from where she's managed to sit up with her back against her pod. she's resting, it's a choice, it's not because she has trouble getting up or because she's scared. ]
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[ his voice sounds wrong. it sounds rougher, raspier than it should be. he was gonna guess it was a side effect of the whatever the mask had done to him. he coughs a few times, spitting up blue goo as he rolls onto his hands and knees. ]
The hell is this place?
[ an accusation leaps onto the tip of his tongue but when he blinks, he can see she's in the same kind of shape he is. if she were behind this, she wouldn't have done it to herself. ]
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[ about the place, that is. she knows her own name —but the thought of amnesia takes her back to lucas. roan. his name is roan and she's not thinking about him. ]
I'm Dorothy.
[ she's got her arms wrapped around her legs, but she unwinds one to lift her hand and wiggle her fingers in a weak wave. ] Woke up a while ago. Are you hurt anywhere?
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[ he groans, stretching his arms and legs carefully. that pod had been big enough to fit him comfortably but it still feels like he'd been floating in a fetal position for way too long.
he shakes some liquid off his hands and then slides it through his hair. gross. gross and grosser. ]
John. [ he nods once. ] Can you walk?
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she clears her throat. ]
Yeah. [ well. ] Maybe. I haven't tried yet, but I think so.
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[ that means he doesn't have to carry her, at least. a good thing since his arms feel sluggish and slower than they should. he tries to shake more of the goop off his arms before he tries to work his way to a standing position. ]
You been sitting there long? Or laying there long?
[ aka has she been watching him float around for awhile? ]
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[ maybe five.
and she hasn't been watching him float around, exactly, too distracted with taking in everything else about this place, too distracted trying not to freak out —but she's watching him struggle to stand, now, gaze lingering on his legs and his abs and his chest and shoulders.
it's a much better distraction, but it's probably also rude and so she lifts a hand to wipe some more goo from her face, smearing it into her hair on accident. it gets her eyes off him, at least. gives him some privacy. ]
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he's not shy but this is still — this is weird. ]
Huh. I don't know about you but last thing I remember, I was wearing clothes.
[ and now he's just wearing blue liquid. ]
Right. This is weird. Weirder.
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[ dorothy doesn't mind her own nudity, generally, but —in a situation like this, a layer of clothing between her and the world would feel more like protection than anything else, she figures. or the lack of it feels like a lack of protection.
she's glad she averted her eyes a moment ago, that he hadn't caught her staring. she's also glad for the fact that she's got her knees drawn up and her arms wrapped around them. ]
This is not the first time something weird like this has happened to me, but the last time, I got to keep my clothes. [ she's trying for light-hearted, here, but can't quite keep her voice from wobbling a little. she'd only just gotten back to kansas. ]
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i
she starts wiping the slime out of her eyes and away from her mouth once she's feeling steady enough, and her vision swims before focusing on a figure about twenty feet ahead of her. he's big, features obscured by the distance, fluid, and his hair, and lorna can't be sure of this at first, but then she hears him speak. ]
John? [ it's hoarse and strained from the tube and god knows how long spent without use. ] Is that you?
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[ later on, he'll be pissed at himself for not being as sharp as he should be, for not being observant of his surroundings but he just can't manage it right now. he feels so lethargic, like whatever he'd been floating in had turned his heartbeat down exceptionally low and taken his energy with it. ]
I recognize your voice. [ he frowns, rubbing some of the liquid off his face while he tried to focus. ] Lorna. Lorna? What are you doing here?
[ then again, what was he doing here? ]
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Yeah, it's me. [ naked and just barely able to remain upright, but it's her. ] And I don't know.
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[ he coughs a few times, spitting out some more blue goop before sighing and laying back, head on the ground and eyes up on the unfamiliar ceiling. ]
This doesn't feel like experimentation by Sentinel Services or anything. They wouldn't let us free like this.
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she sees him lie back and she's tempted to slide back to the ground and do the same. her head is swimming and her limbs and insides feel like the jelly that's coating her skin. instead she pushes herself off the surface of the pod she'd been dumped out of, managing a few shaky steps before her knees buckle and she lands hard back on the ground.
cursing again, she coughs up more fluid, taking a few moments to will her vision to clear before she looks back up at where john's reclining. if she can't walk, she can try crawling, and the first few movements toward him are more or less successful, if not very slippery. ]
We need to get moving. [ maybe this place isn't sentinel services, but it still doesn't seem like a place they want to be, especially naked and covered in slime. ] Can you get up?
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[ he's not necessarily shy but he doesn't really think they need to draw more attention to themselves if they walk around whatever this place is naked. he manages to stagger to his feet, feeling the strength start to return to him.
he blinks, peering around at wherever they are. would have been too convenient to just have some nearby lockers with jumpsuits in them, wouldn't it? ]
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[ she takes in their surroundings now that she's regained some of her senses, noticing a few others in their position. they seem to be just as confused about what's happening as they are, but there are a few that are moving towards what looks to be a room at the end of the hallway of pods. she looks up at him, eyebrows raised. ]
Shall we?
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[ he doesn't know anything about this place, about who's running it and why they're here so just going through a door that could very well lead to a shooting gallery gives him pause. ]
Could be an ambush.
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Are your ears cleared out enough to hear any screaming?
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I ➣ ➣ ➣ GOOD MORNING
one of them being: a lot of naked, attractive, wet people writhing around on the floor. it's almost worse than a duplicity sex party.
respectfully, jack doesn't stare, as he'd been in no mood at all for shit like that when he first fell out of his own pod a few hours ago, and secondly, he isn't in free-love duplicity any longer and there's no telling how hostile any of these people might be towards another man eyeing them up. mostly, it'd be rude and weird and skeevy, so jack, pacing up to the new cryo-birthed baby dressed in his bright orange jumpsuit with the collar popped, but still wobbly on his legs, holds out one of the bedsheets to the new guy. ]
Understatement. Gross as it sounds, if you drink some of the goo, it'll help your throat feel less coated with acid.
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[ john blinks, feeling the heavy liquid clinging to the ends of his hair, his eyelashes everywhere. he knuckles some of the goop out of his eyes and tries to focus on where that voice had come from.
suddenly, there's a bedsheet in front of him being held by someone he doesn't recognize. okay, so he'd just come out of a pod, covered in blue crap, and someone he'd never seen before was handing him bedding.
this is — this is one of the stranger wake up calls that he's had. ]
It's not exactly coffee, you know.
[ but he does take the sheet with a grateful nod, wiping his arms with it to at least get some of this crap off of him. ]
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[ there's a small smirk on his lips. yeah, it's definitely not Folgers, but it's what they have right now. surprisingly enough, the woman who spoke up in their heads when they woke up wasn't exaggerating about the goo helping your limbs come under control. ]
They have some in cups in the medbay, to spare you having to lick yourself.
[ look, even if that's technically sanitary, its still weird as hell, okay? sighing, jack moves, bracing himself against a nearby pod before he holds out a hand for the new guy. ]
Come on. [ fingers gesturing for john to grab his hand, as jack keeps most of his weight on the pod. he's far from 100% himself, but better to give the guy a hand than leave him to flop around on the floor like a dying fish. ] Standing's a two-man exercise right now.
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so, he snags jack's hand and levers himself to his feet, wobbling the slightest bit before he centers himself. ]
Thanks.
[ he nods once, grateful for the help before looking around. ]
Any idea where we are? I didn't exactly go to sleep wearing that mask and sleeping in that pod. [ he's so funny, really. ]
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Space, apparently.
[ his brows are arched and his expression flat, but there's no sign of amusement or joking there. he's serious. we're in space. ]
I don't expect you to believe that, but there's a window on the airlock you can look out yourself.
[ not that this guy's likely to get there anytime soon, as it's a good walk, but hey, just being informative. ]
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[ he peers over in the direction of the window and while he wants to get up, his legs are still not cooperating. he can feel them, at least. ]
Never wanted to be an astronaut. [ he'd always been a fan of keeping his feet on the ground. plenty of shit to deal with on earth so he didn't need to go to space. ]
Guess I didn't get a choice this time.