hyperlinks | test:drive

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!testdrive

test:drive_01.

TESTDRIVE_01
THE ARRIVAL. You wake up, wet and bruised, in the water. You don't recall falling, but you recall a flash of bright light, and the next thing you know you're washing up on the shoreline. You can see two moons and a planet in the sky. Directly abovehead is a slash of oscillating lights that flash painfully bright with every passing second - and you witness a handful of silhouettes getting spit out of the lights, falling into the water with a loud splash. It's a surprising sight; just as surprising is the fact that you're not alone. A stranger you didn't notice approaching hauls you up onto your feet, checks you for injuries, and then you're lifted into a shuttle, where you're healed by the med techs on board. There are others like you who were pulled from the water and the sand, and they're in various states of healing. You're all soaked in seawater - and by the look of things, you're all equally at a loss about your situation. An automated message keeps repeating over the PA system in English: "You are currently in Caius Allied Territory. Welcome to Alexandrina." Where the hell are you? You're now in Alexandrina, and we hope you enjoy your stay. NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE. It isn't your lucky day. Something, somewhere along the line, goes incredibly wrong. Rather than keeping you at the shores of Alexandrina, the rift pulls you in and spits you out in a place that's a lot less watery and clear. The first thing you come to is the taste of dirt and grime, and the hustle and bustle of a city that doesn't have an off-switch. Overhead, there are high-rises and towers that go up further than your eyes can see. It seems neverending, and natural light struggles to filter through the metal. The shock only starts to fade away when you hear the sounds of a struggle not too far away from where you landed. Investigating will lead you to a group of Caia Maxus harassing a few Terrans on a back alleyway. The Terrans are trying to sidestep their way out of this (they'd rather not get involved in a fight), but the Caia Maxus far outnumber them and all escape routes have been blocked. No one else is stepping in to intervene. If anything, the rest of the onlookers seem to be encouraging the rough treatment. So now you get to decide: OPTION A \| YOU STEP IN LIKE THE HERO YOU ARE. You step between the two parties to try and avoid an escalation. You don't want to start trouble, or maybe you do and this seems like a good reason to fish for a fight. OPTION B \| YOU LOOK THE OTHER WAY. This isn't your problem really, so without saying a word, you head for the other direction. The Terrans weren't asking for help anyway, so maybe they could handle it. Best hope nothing will let you regret your decision. Choose wisely. You'll feel the effects of your choices sooner than you think. Regardless of what you decide though, the Hypatia Rescue Fleet 409 will locate you a few Terran hours later. They'll tell you they have no idea how you ended up in Koriba, that's never really happened before, but they're glad they managed to find you before anything major happened. THE NIGHT OF. It's a lot to take in. You're on an alien moon, looking out to a planet that looks a lot like Earth but isn't. You can see the storms swirling around, the deep blue of its own seas, as you listen to the crash and pull of the waves not far from where you stand. The stars are different here too - there are no constellations that you recognize immediately. Some of the older locals are lingering outdoors with you, and they nod at you as you make your way around the cottages. Are you headed to the beach? You might find a few couples having a moment there. Are you headed back into the cottages? If you peer into some of the windows, you'll find entire families sitting together, or parents tucking their children to bed. If you're headed into the woodsy areas that extend away from the beach, you might hear a rustling sound or two - from something too large to be another person. Careful where you walk tonight. There's a reason for lights out being a thing. WELCOME TO THE 409. It's the morning after your quick orientation into the Alexandrina settlement, and everything looks dewy and homey — until you start hearing loud splashes, followed by shots firing off nearby. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a bunch of eldritch horrors falling from the rift abovehead. They stand at roughly ten meters tall each, lumbering out from the water with angry screeching and flailing limbs. They're already kicking up a mess at the shorelines, and upending some of the makeshift outposts lining the beach. The locals are shooting at them to keep them away from the settlement borders. Most of them are adults, but some of the shooters are as young as fifteen or sixteen, and clearly used to the kickback of the firearms they're carrying. One of these shooters pushes you forward, tells you to get moving. Another hands you keys to a vehicle and points you in the direction of the fleet — every able adult needs to help in manning the patrol lines, they say. The keys fit into a hoverbike, which in turn is armed with blast guns up front. "Get up in the air and help the guys out," the stranger urges you. "We don't have as many men as we used, to. Get going, get going!" ...Maybe those bikes come with a how-to manual? On the bright side, at least you're not alone in trying to figure these bikes out. NOTHING WASTED, NOTHING THROWN. The beach is saved! You're drenched in monster blood, there's sand in places you didn't realize you even had, and your bike is in some form of damage after those first few crucial minutes of getting the hang of riding them. Now comes the cleanup, and your character is armed with large chainsaws and buckets. The creatures need to be chopped down to smaller sizes before they can be properly incinerated, and everyone's kindly asked to suit up and get to chopping! There are small stalls and tents lined up along the beach for various purposes to help with the process. There are refreshment tents for when the sun heat gets to be too much; there are portable incinerator ovens, which burn the creatures' parts down into fertilizer (no point letting it go to waste, hey!), there are shower tents for when you're done with the hacking and sawing, and at the far end of the beach, away from the gore and the carnage, is a beach barbeque bonanza. From the way people act, this is a normal day in the 409. So why not grab a saw, chop up some monster flesh, and have yourself a nice beef-flavored something? You've earned it today. HYPENET. C̪͇̜̞͇̲a̮̠̝͍̩̦n̪̣ a̦͖n̕y̯̪̪o̟̭͞n҉̩e͢ ̱̜̠͎̖̤h̘̝͔͓̳̪̠e̻̲̦̯ͅa̵r͈̜͙̣̜ ̧m̩͇ḙ͓͡?̩͈̲ͅͅ H̷͖͇͈̮e̲͖❚❚͓͈̥̤̺͔ͅ—͍ N͎̦̫̯͔̯o͖̖͎̠̣̮ ̹̝o̬̦̠̫̮ͅ❚̱͈̺̝̥͞❚͏ ̳❚͉͎͜ş ̨͚̲͓͚̣̫s̙̥❚̮͚̻͠f̟̪̲̳̕e̥̞̲̝̝͟—͈̖ Whoa. What was that? This is the first thing you hear as soon as you try connecting to the network. Something tells you this isn't something that happens often, but asking anyone who knows more about this place than you do isn't netting you any answers. The more people start looking at you like you're crazy, the more you're tempted to brush it off... Connecting to the network again will trigger its original default message: Welcome to HypeNet, DefaultUsername[xxxx]! You are now accessing the Hypatia Mass Network. You may input your personalized username and start chatting now! Time to get some answers. Maybe someone else must have heard it too, right? OOC NOTES. Welcome to the first TDM of HYPERJUMP! We're trying something different with the Koriba prompt, so please bear with us. Cast your vote here! Both options have their own sets of consequences that will affect the first intro log of the game, so choose your actions carefully! Additionally, the interactions in this test drive can be game canon if the parties involved agree to it. Everyone is also encouraged to use test drive threads for samples in your application. We are super excited to have you here, and we hope you like what you see. ♥

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( Armed or not it would be remiss of Connor to let someone go stumbling into something that could turn out fatal. He's not seeing any firearms on Ren either so when the other goes to push past him the android simply reaches out to grab at the other's arm firmly.)

Armed or not, you have no idea what you are running into or the numbers that they have and you can trust me when I say it's more than just a few. ( Connor turns an unimpressed look up at the other.) Do you often go running blindly into such things?

[ When Connor first speaks, Rhys is half expecting to find something truly out of the ordinary near the android. Like a creepy shrine, some dead bodies, or some dead bodies turned into a creepy shrine--Hey, it may be morbid, but he wouldn't put it past the universe. This place might not look like Pandora, but for all he knows? It could very well still share the same horrible, murder-y spirit.

But no, there's nothing like that, thankfully. Which means Connor's most likely talking about the whole being on a new world thing, which is fair. Rhys is about to comment, when the sounds from the bushes become a little more noticeable. Yeeeeaaaah, no. Nope! He's been in enough life-or-death situations to know that nothing good can come creepy nighttime sounds. ]

Uh--yeah, gonna second that. I do not want to see what's hiding in those bushes. Nooo thank you.

[ for a moment, pluto's smile falters. she should have expected this, somehow - and yet, she didn't. why is that? the woman's heart is a constant, reaching out to her, talking to her, and yet she still manages to surprise her.

what a marvelous, wonderful human being. pluto can't help but smile once again, even as she heaves a deep sigh. ]

It's not like Earth's ace to go down without a fight. Especially when her opponent's already surrendered. [ does she sound a little pouty? she might sound a little pouty. ] Is it really that different moonside, Luna-T? Even for you?

[ she knows already, of course. luna-terra is a beacon, her story and feelings and narrative pouring out into the space around her, and even if she can't see or force it pluto wants nothing more than to pick out each of the pieces and gather them together, see the form luna-terra could take if she only understood. but she wants to hear luna-terra say it, too, because sometimes it's just as important that she understands it. ]

[ She keeps her eyes on the sky when she answers, but there is a distinct tightness to her face when she nods. ]

Yes, and I cannot say many pleasant things about where I came from either.

[ For her part, Angel would love to view this as a fresh start, a second chance. But she isn't so sure she deserves it, after everything she's done. Her final action was more an attempt at repentance then one to escape her confinement, and now she's stuck with all the feelings that brings alongside the fear of being dragged back there. ]

There has been talk of sending us back from the paces we came but...I would be...grateful. To remain somewhere where I can see the sky so clearly.

[ Instead of through a screen ]

It really does seem to go on forever. Look!

[ She points, upward, to the right of where they're sitting ]

Those four stars almost make a-- Oh. No, that one must be a satellite.

Well, I'm not exactly here trying to get a bunch of guys to murder me for killing their friend.

[ Kanan isn't even breaking a sweat, really - he's in good shape, no matter how old this kid seems to think he is. And he can jump across the larger gaps between buildings, too. Handy! ]

spectre-1 What sort of travel, space travel? Your species isn't spacefaring yet?

Please, they'd have murdered you anyways for trying to talk them down. Least you'd have thinned the crowd.

[ As for Glitch, he's quick and is able to at least keep up with the man, even if it's from behind. The small gaps of the roof aren't too much of a problem, but he stops just short of the larger one just a head. While this guy, yeah he's just clearing them like it's nothing. He's definitely wondering how the guy is managing it.

welp...if this guy is what you'd call kind maybe...? ]

Uh...a little help? ...Please? [ ugh, yup manners were physically painful. ]

[ From the way he talks about tech and scans, Angel is being lead to believe her penpal here is at least of the cyborg variety. ]

Once I get my barrings, so to speak, I would be happy to accept any help that can be offered on compiling information on our fellow refugees.

How complex is your scanning system?

[ If Angel was drinking something she'd do a spit-take. She's not used to having to opportunity to brazenly talk about Jack in the negative with others, and not only that but agree wholeheartedly without fear or guilt. ]

I think I'll stick to "asshole."

Oh, my apologies but you misunderstand. When I say "special" I don't mean it in the positive sense of the word. Unless you count things like torture and isolation an enjoyable experience.

[ ....Which she knows some people do but uuuuuh let's not go there. ]

vidar: That's an interesting perspective.
vidar: In a way, some technology enhancement was considered taboo for us.
vidar: All because of a time when it was horribly abused.
vidar: But that was a long time ago and the keepers of that knowledge don't always like to allow the new generations to understand it.

vidar: I agree, though. I don't think any of our sensors could have picked up a planet like this.

The rabbit?

That's a new one for me

What form of space flight are you used to?

[ she's dying squirtle ]

See? Hilarious

Thank you! I had the majority of the 'jokes' database of the robot I sourced this code from memorized, you will now have access to over 5000 winning jokes whenever you please. :)

[Pluto had a few oversights in her premonition machinations. As a person she was so generally overwhelming that she often overwhelmed even herself — she could sometimes fail to consider how another person might consider things (such as themselves) because of her own pre-existing preconception on the matter. She still saw her in an ideal light, even though Luna-Terra was made painfully aware of how the most important variables had changed.

She was appraising of Pluto's expression. She can't read the narration, so she has to go about it in the old-fashioned way, weighing the tone of words, scrutinizing minute changes in demeanor.]

I'm no ace pilot outside the Mare Crisium.

[She gives a faint smile. It's a vaguely gentle expression, but only because of how tired it was — like how years and years of use and wear can cause fabric or leather to grow soft.] Besides, it's sounding like you really want me to accept it. That's enough to make me cautious.

[It's a game of cat and mouse. She knows Pluto usually gets what she wants, one way or another. It's just that Luna-Terra's characteristic stubbornness delays the inevitability. Without their Ship-Selves, they are restricted to only a few different methods of communicating with one another, but that doesn't change the manner by which they do that.

She doesn't answer — not directly. Instead she takes another step closer, eyes hooded as she looks down to her. It's the type of thing where Luna-Terra knows that she knows, so she has to wonder if that makes the question hypothetical. The answer is "no," of course, but she once again pivots and takes another path; the way she plays this game verbally will always match how she piloted the Mare Crisium.]

You were right. [The words are few, but they are heavy, granting them nearly enough weight to have their own gravity. Luna-Terra's humor seeps out of her as she also lets slip the mantle that she'd assumed upon returning to the Memorial Foundation, her determined adherence to the idea that she would drag all of them back down to Earth herself if that's what ended up being best for them, if that's what ended up being right. But things like that aren't so black or white. And seeing what they're seeing now, how could she possibly be sure?] So it's settled. I'm here to follow you.

[ he feels it, of course. that vibration just beneath the skin, a hum of power that is at once familiar and alien.

he can count on one hand the number of Force sensitives he knows, and while it was never beyond the realm of possibility that there were others, scattered across the galaxy as Rey had been, it's a rare enough thing that he pulls up short, uncertain briefly. he rallies quickly ㅡ helped, undoubtedly, by the hilt hanging off his belt. ]

I don't intend to linger long enough to find out. [ he didn't sign up for this impromptu vacation, and while he's grateful ㅡ inasmuch as he is ever grateful ㅡ to his current hosts, he has a resistance to crush and a galaxy to bring into order. #justdarksidethings ]

marecrisium: A long time ago, huh. How long have your people been in space?
marecrisium: I was one of the first group to go up permanently. It's only been twenty years, give or take.
marecrisium: Still enough time for us to maybe find a similar problem.
marecrisium: Some people took it into their own hands to see if they could make a human even "more" human, outside the constraints of Earth's gravity.
marecrisium: Then it turns out Earth doesn't really think along the same lines. I guess "taboo" would be a good way to put it, if it wasn't so new.

marecrisium: Yeah. But there are people here. It has to be close enough to Earth for that to be possible.

[ oh.

oh that was a bad idea. he shrugs out of Connor's grip, turning, mouth twisting, to level a crackling blade of red light against Connor's neck. ]

And who are you to police my movements? [ the drawing of the weapon had been a smooth, practiced motion. born of decades of training. ] You have as much authority as I.

[ The very first thing he did after washing up on the beach, was materialize his cell phone to call the Second Ship. But it didn't appear. Likewise his thorn épées remained hidden and inaccessible. His circus bracelet was inert and without power, as far as he could tell. None of this is good. One could argue that all of it is bad, but he would never be that much of a pessimist.

On the bright side, circus training emphasized the development of high-level, actual human skills prior to working with cradle cell bracelets. With a couple of surreptitiously-collected metal pipes as weapons, he estimated his fighting capacity at about 25% of his regular capabilities. Which would have to do, as there was a fight going on that he couldn't ignore.

The woman with the dark hair got there ahead of him and is going in first. That suits him fine. Fighting makes him nervous, and besides, maybe she'll be better than he is when it comes to defusing the situation. ]

I. DOROTHY

[ Shouta has a feeling or two about luck. Mostly that it's a large crock of bullshit, if his current predicament is anything to go by.

Lucky people don't get hurtled through space, dunked in alien saltwater, and then scrambled up some more, only to end up spit out onto some trash heap of a city street. His suspension of disbelief is pretty damn good most days, especially when it relates to his survival, but from one particular alleyway, the long string of curses and splattering water might not be well-camouflaged by the sounds of the streets.

He only stops there to wring out his coat and gloves, the damp material already stinking like the air of this place. Really, it'd be easier to go without, but then he'd be left carrying his firearms out in the open, and let's be real, they're about the most extra things in the history of guns, so. That's out. Soggy is in.

And so, soggily, Shouta sets out to navigate his way around this place. Visibility is poor, he doesn't recognize any landmarks. There are flying cars. A fractured skyline that never seems to end. And — ah, there. That's familiar. The silhouettes might be all wrong, but there's no mistaking it.

A fight. ]

Yo! [ Wisely, Shouta has decided to enter the mouth of the alleyway, unconcerned that it could eat him alive. ] How about we all take a second to calm down.

[ Law enforcement is in his blood, which is probably going to end up all over the ground soon because he's definitely going to get punched in the face.

Backup, maybe? ]

II. RESCUE FLEET

Get off me!

[ As if a rescue operation and a bumpy shuttle ride wasn't stressful enough, now there's this asshole making a ruckus with the medical technicians, refusing their treatments. Most people aboard have any number of injuries from taking a tumble out of the sky, of all things, but Shouta is notably drier, a little grimier, and he definitely has a handsome bruise purpling on his cheek that seems more pointed than just your average faceplant-into-the-beach fare.

(Guess who got punched in the aforementioned prompt. This guy.)

Luckily the techs back off, leaving Shouta to sit there pettily, arms crossed and wild auburn hair tousled every which way. If he feels eyes on him, he's quick to return the favor. ]

What are you looking at?

[ Yikes. ]

III. NIGHT OF

[ It's a lot to take in. He'd call it a nightmare, but Shouta is a man who knows his nightmares, and this isn't it. He's loathe to admit this is almost peaceful in comparison to the life he was counting down to zero on, the beach lit by the glow of the planet it orbits, soft tides and wind moving through the trees. At least, he hopes it's wind.

Either way, he's sitting in the sand with his alien booze and his bruised cheek. Not unarmed, but old habits die hard.

If he hears an approach, he'll sigh, leaning back in the sand. ]

Same bright idea, eh?

[ You know, a "get hammered and hope you blink it away" kind of deal. ]

IV. 409

[ Just when he thought he'd seen enough fun and was this-close to believing he'd open his eyes and find himself back in his shitty apartment, aliens. Really, really ugly aliens. He's probably too hungover for this? And Shouta's not much of a getaway driver, reckless as he is. He has people for that. But boy, can he shoot. Which is why he's hailing the closest person he can find that doesn't look like they'll get him killed for the effort, wasting no time in tossing the hoverbike keys at them. ]

Can you fly this thing?!

[ Too bad, he already gave you the keys! Aren't you lucky. ]

Look, you drive, I'll shoot.

[ Or someone is getting a tentacle upside the face and goddamnit, it's not going to be him. ]

V. HYPENET

CAPTAIN: Anyone see our pal with the drinks lately? Pretty stingy, if you ask me.

[ Oh well that's. Pleasant. Feels a little too close to home, and there should probably be something gratifying about that underneath the apparent gore and that... is that a face?

Actually no. Forget she asked. Not worth knowing.

As Rosette questions whether or not she should do anything about this (yes, she should, but man this is not how she wanted to spend her time getting acclimated doing), someone thrusts a key ring toward her. She blinks, looking down at the keys in her gloved hand, then back up at the taller man.

Yes, Shouta, you're asking a nun to drive you while you go gun-happy on some poor alien. And yes, you're probably going to Hell for it. Good choice. ]

Sure, no problem!

[ At least she doesn't seem to mind, giving him a self-assured grin, tossing the keys up and catching them in a show of confidence. If nothing else, he'll have someone there to give him his final rites when she inevitably crashes this thing. ]

[ Well, that's better than someone screaming and running away or any other kind of refusal, so. Good enough for him. Now, to make sure the monsters die instead of, you know, them. He may be resigned to the seat he's secured himself in Hell, but he's not in a hurry to die here for it. ]

Then let's move!

[ Authoritative as he dares to get as he climbs up to the gunner platform. ]

[ Fantastic! She's glad to have someone willing to help, that is a load off her shoulders. She isn't accustomed to working on her own on an operation like this, so she meets his willingness with genuine gratitude and a self-assured grin.

It's like... a motorcycle? A locomotive? What is she looking at exactly? Actually, you know what, it doesn't matter. If it drives, she can figure it out. She doesn't like how open it is, but they will have to make do. She rolls her shoulders before catching the keys in one hand and punching that fist in the other. ]

Great! Let's get the ball rolling then!

[ Walking over to the weird motorcycle-locomotive hybrid, she hops on, adjusting to make herself comfortable. She glances back at Yogi from over her shoulder, the air of confidence still apparent on her face. ]

You've got a gun, right?

[ Simple question, but still probably necessary. Hers isn't exactly cut out for this. Rosette looks forward again, keys in hand and—

Wait, what is this? Why are there all these buttons and gauges? Um??? ]

[ Despite finding an immense pride in her independent nature, Metera welcomes the help of the medical technicians if only because it meant not having to bandage herself up. Her bruises from their arrival have settled well, an ugly purple peppering across smooth skin on her legs and arms -- fortunately her face was saved, though that doesn't erase from the pout evident on her lips.

Her expression only changes when she's given some entertainment in the form of the struggling man rejecting the help of the staff. The humor of the scene earning an immediate smile to her lips, and when he responds to her (obvious) staring with that she can't help but adhere to the need to tease him. ]

Hmmm~ Is that a trick question? I believe I'm looking at the face of a stranger! Such a cute one, at that, with a bruise that I just want to kiss and make better. ☆

[ And if this couldn't get any worse, she spreads herself out on whatever surface is close which is a.. table... i guess... listen........

Anyway, she's gonna lie on her side and pose. ]

More importantly... what do you see?

[ Could you maybe not bark at her like that? Doesn't he know that you don't get to take back first impressions? Reeling back slightly, she looks him up and down before waving her hand. ]

All right, all right.

[ Doesn't he know patience is a virtue. Not one that she has, but details. Anyway. She makes her way toward the vehicle, rushing to hop on board. She plops down on the seat, leans forward to place her hands on the handle bars. ]

Let's just start her up aaand—

[ Then abruptly stops, the air of confidence instantly melting from her face. That is a lot of buttons and gauges. She leans forward even closer, as if somehow that will help her figure this thing out.

Maybe..? ]

...

[ Nope, she's got nothing. She's not smart enough for this. ]

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test:drive_01.

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night of

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hypenet

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shouta mikoshiba | dolls

let it be known that I take no personal responsibility for what happens in this thread. 409.

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I'm sorry I meant to get this sooner ;;

wescue fweet owo

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