oasismods | JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

"-̭̫̜̩̪̑̈́̓̌̐-̞͓̘̩͖̿́͒͑͘░͙͈̥̦̼̌̊̒̾̅░̨̢̠͙̖̉͊̽͌͝░̫͔͎̤̘̀̑͋͛̾ȩ̨̬̙͛̐̋̀̕͜m̻̬͈̠͒̌͌̍͌͜ ̡̲͈̙̼̽̾͆̊̃f̖̟͉̲̪̈́̾̀̂̀ą̢̯̘̙́̇͑̈̋i̪̱̙̘̟͌́̄̊͘ļ̢̛̲͕̣͐̎̿͛u͕̣̥̘̳̓̃͗͠͝r͉̠̗͖̰̉̅͗̚͘ę̛̺̥̝̘̄͑̌̈́.̣̫͕̰̭̓͂̈́̓͊ ̟̗͔̟͋̿̒̚̚ͅA̠̫̬̼̣̒̇͛́̊l̫̬͎̤͈͑̀͂̐̆ë̡̧̝̺͖́̍̂͂͝r͙͍̱̫͕̆͊̾͐̕ţ͙̻̣̝͒́̄̈́͆!͕̫͓͉̹̌̍̽̂̓ ̧̛̲͎͖̳̌̆̾̏░͖̲̞̼̹̇̄̌̈́̊░̡͍͎͍̘̇̈́̕͝░̪͚̼̦̃̋͊̆͜͠è̛̞̬͙̠̖̊͌̂m͖̝̟̗̣̽̄̐̚͠ ̛̹̯͈̮̼̈́͊͌͠f̧̰̖͋̊̈̊̑͜͜ą̨͚͎̹̀̎̑͋́i̞̬͓̭̳̎́̓͘͠l̢͈̲͇͕̈́̆̐̌̈́ư̰̞͚̻̺̔͑̓̑ṛ͎̯͚̇̔̾̔̏͜ę̛̻̼̭͊͆̕͜͝.̯̖̫̣͔̔̋̔̽͠ ̺̼̟̲͌́͒̔̅ͅĄ̹̝̖̺̂̇̽̒͊ĺ̛̺̰̰̤͎̾͗͝e̛̗̭̻͕̹̓̔͆̆r̢̛͙͖̘̻̈̚̚͘t̰̲̠̖̻̉͂̆̓̇!̬̞̟͉̺̂͆̊͑͐"

You awaken to godawful static overlaying a female voice that's too monotone to be anything but a recording. The static makes it difficult to understand the warning, but it's clearly a warning if your surroundings tell you anything...

You're buckled into a sturdy seat bolted to the wall behind you. Around you, there are dozens of others like you, some awake and others still unconscious, but it seems most of the seats lining the walls are occupied. The lights are dim, likely auxiliary lighting, leaving you mostly in the dark. You smell smoke and hear the sizzling crackle of electrical systems popping and shorting out. Some of the seats were jarred off the wall, leaving the occupants either wounded or dead. Count yourself lucky all you have is a headache and various aches accounted to whiplash.

You appear to be in a drop ship or an escape vessel of some form but the pilot is dead and the hull bears a massive gash where it buckled under the impact and sheered off. Through the door-sized opening, you can see vegetation. The air that wafts in is heavy with a humid heat, but it's obviously breathable.

Once you make your way outside, you'll see greenery: Trees, grass, and shrubs tangled with vines that grow wildly and suffocate the trees they climb. In the distance, behind the ship, you can make out a sandy desert that seems to stretch on endlessly. Forward through the trees, however, you may see a crumbling wall, but more importantly, you'll see signs of civilisation. Buildings and other structures seem contained within those decrepit walls. Maybe the natives can fill you in on what's going on, because the last thing you remember isn't being in an escape shuttle. As a matter of fact, you don't remember much about your arrival or where you are. But it's going to be a bit of a hike, better get moving. Though you might want to grab the backpack of supplies under your seat before you go.

"W̞͓̝͓̓̀̍̒͘͜ȃ̢̗̪̤͇̔̃̚͝░̟͙̯̳̱̈͂̈́̈́͠n̬̘̬̤̠͛̅̈́͋͝i͓̟͈͎͙̐̆̈́̔̓n̡̟̤̟̤̑͐͋͐̚g̩̱͖͉̻͌͛̈͆̈́!̧̪̰͇̦̓̂̆̌͝ ̢͔̣̠̗̾̉́̌̒C̢̥̟͍͊͊͑̀̚ͅr̛͙̪̙̟͐̽̓̅͜i̫͖̻̣̘̽̑͂̾̎t̩͇̦̬̞͊̌̑̈́͝i̡̳̠̞̐̿̍̎̀͜c̡͕͙͕͕̓̊̌̾͘å̼̯͍̙̲̍̏̚͝l̢̥͉̮̙̋̆͐̆́ ̢̰̞͕̯̋̈́̈́̋͌f͇͔̟̻̈̽͌̒̉ͅa̳̰̠͉͔͒̑̈̈͘i̟̭̦̺͎̍̾̽̈́̐░͕̣̥̭͛̿̓̽̐ͅ░̰̪̠͇͍̆͛̀͝͝░̘̱̩̳̘͆̈́̆̀̚e̛̻͈̳̳̺̊̔̚̕.͙̟̳̼̾̀̅͊͊ͅ"

With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.

[MOD NOTES: TDM threads may be used as game canon.]

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[ whiplash isn't really terribly surprising, after all, thomas had just been forcibly dragged through a Flat Trans, after minho, while the building around him was being blown to hell. just before that, he'd nearly had his brain carved out, then went running through collapsing rubble, then fought a grown man and strangled him to death. the aches and pains don't seem out of place.

what does is the blond boy who'd just gone tripping over thomas's sprawled legs, speaking in a familiar accent, looking more like a memory than what he knows his best friend, newt, ought to actually look like. were he still alive.

this can't be real. this cannot be real, and thomas is shaking in his seat, staring wide eyed at the boy with jaw slack and eyes stinging. he felt newt collapse on him, heard the gunshot, the crack as it made contact, felt his friend's body jerk as it hit.

but he hadn't looked, had he? his eyes were closed, and when he got up, he ran. he didn't look at newt's body, he didn't try to move it or take it with. for that matter, how could he have been certain that was newt to begin with? they can give four kids telepathy, who says they can't make another look and talk and act like newt? ratman's words from the dorms in the scorch ring in the back of his mind. you should never, ever believe your eyes, or your mind, for that matter. a chill shoots up his spine at the same moment as a seething, burning rage pumps through his chest like raging wildfire. thomas's hands tighten over the straps of his seat restraints clutched in his hands, knuckles white. death wasn't nearly good enough for that man.

whether that newt was real or this one was, he can't decide, and thomas is torn between the two, mind in a storm, but none the less, a single syllable falls shake from his lips, whispered almost, and unbidden. ]

...Newt?

[ he looks like hell, probably. covered in dirt and grime and carbon dust from the explosions, scrapes and bruises blossoming across his face from being repeated hit by jansen, and pale. thomas isn't concerned with any of it at the moment, and doesn't take note of anything else going on right now, because really? who the fuck cares anymore? ]

Yukimura was unnecessarily excited, to be honest. He has no clue what is going on except that he's been kidnapped, and no idea what the metal can they arrived with is besides it being some sort of ship, from what he has heard. But new experiences and new places to see for someone with a wanderlust from a small island kingdom like Japan had got to be worthwhile. Not that he knew if it would or not, but just meeting new people and seeing new places were enough for him. That and maybe some alcohol and to get laid once in a while, he supposed.

So! He simply had to set off exploring, and he's a nimble and fast man, so he moves around the forest (and the ship) easily, climbing every tree and sometimes trying to catch animals even though some might be different. But he grabbed a stick, so he should be fine, he is certain of it. Besides, he is able to defeat heavily armored men with only a fishing pole, he knows fully well that it's the use of the weapon and not the quality that matters the most.

He really should stop sneaking up on people (or wild animals), though.

Or flirt with them, for that matter. The people, not the animals. But he can flirt with anyone, man or woman doesn't matter, nor does appearance.

[He'd been up and about, having recovered moderately quickly, and scouting out the crash site as well as the shuttle that he'd awakened in. It wasn't HYDRA but it didn't seem to be SHIELD either. It lacked any and all discernable logos, as a matter of fact. He doesn't remember boarding the vessel or being captured. He doesn't remember a whole lot of anything aside from being on the run and trying to piece together his own mind.

People were gradually waking up and some were in and out of the tear in the hull, but one caught his eye. He knew the face, but not personally. This man who perched on the highest point he could safely reach was one that Rogers kept close. If the man didn't look just as lost as the rest of them, he'd have confronted him for answers. Instead, he stayed hidden, tucked in the shadows. If he recognises the archer, then it wasn't a stretch to assume the archer had basic info on The Soldier at the very least. He had been part of a rather large incident recently, just like this man had been involved in an international one even more recently.

But as the archer staggers and starts to go down, a long since buried instinct kicks in and before he can stop himself, Barnes is darting out of his cover to capture the man by the elbow and steady him.]

Easy, you could have a concussion.

[The long-sleeved red shirt conceals most of the metal arm, but the hand is what's bracing Barton's elbow while his right hand is now resting on the archer's other shoulder. He tries to guide the archer to sit on a piece of cooled debris so he could ride out the dizzy spell, if the man didn't struggle against his help.]

[ First he hears a voice making an amusing comment, and then he hears the ripping of fabric as he closes in. How exciting!

Yukimura is glad for his yukata since it's not too warm, but his haori has come off and he has wrapped it around the "handle" of the stick that he's decided to use at a sword, and stuck to his belt. His zori are probably not made for the terrain, but he doesn't mind.

When he spots the woman, he grins at her cheerfully, also taking the whole situtaion in stride. ]

My, are you a performer?

[ He asks that because of her comment. He also appreciates the sight of her legs even if he doesn't oogle them. He is a any-body-parts man, anyway. ]

"Understood."

Given the man's response, Bucky was starting to get the feeling he might have found himself in cryo again somehow. Frozen but not wiped? Maybe whatever happened had left HYDRA without the time to reprogram him. Tossed him in storage and something else went wrong. Who knew what year it was now. He'd go with that for the time being.

"How long?" Full sentences, Barnes. "...has this been going on? My memory's been full of holes for--a long time." He opted against dropping the WWII bomb just yet.

Finn's managed to make it out of the craft somehow, though judging by how he's sitting on the ground curled into himself with his head in his hands, he's not doing so hot.

He's only partially healed from the fight with Kylo Ren, and the flight hasn't helped with his injuries. In pain, confused, and utterly lost, he just shuts down for a quick breather. Maybe once he's caught his breath, things will make more sense.

Finn is already not at his best when the ship starts. When it crashes, that only compounds the issues he's already having. Waking up is slow, and when he does come around, it's with a groan, blinking confusedly around at his surroundings. He fumbles at his seatbelt, fingers sliding over the buckles.

Finn swears softly, continuing to try to unbuckle himself, but he's shaking too much. Anxiety builds, that pressure rising in his chest until he can't breathe, gasping and pulling frantically at his belt. Where is he? Where's Rey? And Poe? Finn lets out a quiet noise, struggling like a wild thing as the panic builds further.

Were all the other people the group that got them that oblivious? He didn't have time to teach everyone how to deal with walkers.

...or, rather, he probably did, seeing as how he didn't know where he was or how much time had passed since he'd been taken. Didn't mean he wanted to, though.

She looked young, though. College-aged maybe. Bright eyed and well-fed. Like the people of Alexandria that had never ventured outside their walls. Didn't know what it was really like out there. Where it was kill, re-kill, or be killed.

Daryl met her eyes with his and walked past her to the dead body two seats down. He held her eyes as he grabbed it by the head. He looked away when he had to line up his piece of metal. But he looked back as he jammed it hard through the eye socket and pulled it back out, "Ain't got no knife to make it pretty."

He wiped the metal on the shirt of the now-definitely-dead body before yanking it forward and tapping the back, right at the nape of the neck, "Easier to slip one in here if you can. But anyway you go about it, you gotta get the brain. Don't let 'em bite you, don't let 'em scratch you."

Full of holes. To a much greater extent than Daryl's was. That was just fucking peachy.

"Not sure," Daryl answered, taking a deep breath while they got the body laid out so the person could wake in relative comfort. When he straightened, he stretched his back and looked from the other man and to the transport. He didn't have knife, just the metal bar, but the man seemed strong enough not to need one. Could be useful in salvaging something other than the back-packs.

"We lost track of the days pretty quickly," he continued, voice getting quiet. His thumb came up to his mouth as he started back into the ship. "Can't give you anything exact, but it's been about two winters and three summers."

With a lot of the lower seats cleared of bodies (except for the dead ones), the backpacks they held could be grabbed. Or the seats themselves. Which is what Daryl wanted. That and what was under them or in the ceiling. He waved a hand along the isle, "Think you can rip all these out? Be easier to cut them up if they are. Need to get to the wiring under it all, too."

Just want the one.

[Daryl's voice was low, just as threatening as hers, but he was holding himself back at a safe distance. He knew trouble when he saw it. And She-Hulk was definitely trouble.

How the hell was her skin so green?]

"Easy," Daryl's voice, rough with age and cigarettes, was attempting to be gentle all the same. He put a hand to the guy's shoulder and snapped his fingers in front of his face to get him to focus. "Hold still."

Couldn't get him out of there if he was squirming too much. Wasn't sure if he'd need to cut him out, neither. More than a few of the belts he'd already undone had been damaged somehow. Probably from the impact or something like that.

Help. Okay. He's getting help. Finn takes a deep breath and nods, finally stilling. He's still shaking slightly, but at least he's not fighting.

"Thank you." It's the least he can offer. A helping hand is both unexpected and very appreciated.

Daryl snorted and muttered, "Thank me after I get you out." But there was a ghost of a smile on his lips all the same. Kid reminded him of more than a few friends lost along the way with the way he was acting, the easy thanks. His jaw clenched and he pushed those thoughts out of his head. Didn't need them distracting him.

He moved his hand to the buckled and gave it a press. It wasn't jammed, but it was stuck enough that he had to press harder than he should have before it finally released. He put his hand back on the kid, this time to the center of his chest. His touch was light, more to hold him steady as he got to his feet in case he rushed it.

"There's a backpack under your seat. Whatever's in it is yours. Ain't got much, but it'll help keep you alive."

Finally. Finn stands, a little shaky. There's a burn mark through his shirt on his shoulder, another down his spine, half-healed but still nasty. He sways slightly and looks around.

"I don't remember this... Was the Resistance attacked?"

Because obviously this man must be Resistance.

[ Newt doesn't expect the sight he's met with when he trips over someone's legs, but he only falters for a moment, dark eyes scanning over the other guy who tried to help him from stumbling - something Newt's rather thankful for, his busted leg not doing much to help. Really, he was in too much of a rush to get out of that place, to exit the creepy ship and hopefully find himself not in a brand new maze or in the scorch. ]

Oh, I'm brilliant. [ There's tired sarcasm laced in the answer, but it doesn't seem to be meant as offensive to the other guy. Squinting, Newt looks at Alex, watching his head wound. ] You're bleeding. [ Newt's hand moves to hover over the spot on his own head where Alex is bleeding, and simply stares in mild amazement at what the gash is doing...

Right, it's way too dark in there and he's possibly going nuts. Clearing his throat he nods downwards. ]

There's a backpack under your seat. Might have somethin' for that. [ The teenager hasn't gone through his own yet, but there might be something helpful for a head injury in it, not that Newt's really sure what would qualify as helpful. Gauze? A band-aid? A sewing kit? ]

"So roughly two or three years?" Okay, that wasn't too bad. He'd been in storage longer than that if the broken memory fragments bleeding through were any indication. That didn't mean this had only started two or three years ago, unfortunately, so he was still uncertain, but it was a start. "That gives me some sort of time frame to start with, I guess. Uh--thanks?" Yes, manners. He was raised a proper young man in Boston, might as well act like it if he had any chance of reconnecting with his life before the fall. He wasn't the same man anymore, but he was human again. Mostly.

Buck nodded an affirmative at the question and flexed the metal arm, servos giving off a soft whirr and plates shifting. "What are you using the wiring for?" How long had it been since he'd been able to actually question an order given to him? He was effectively a brainwashed weapon for HYDRA until that programming began to fall apart, thank you Captain America.

Barnes moved back into the drop ship, working on the first row of seating. A combination of the metal arm, his Serum enhanced strength, and the training he already had before being turned into a living weapon, he made short work of the first few seats, carrying them out to set on the ground without breaking so much as a sweat.

[ Gamora looks up from her search at that tone, one threat recognizing another easily enough. Her eyes narrow a hint and she sets about watching him for a moment, trying to decide whether he really is a danger or not. Not quite sure yet, she keeps her voice a bit more neutral now when she says, ]

Then you should hope I find more than three.

[ Though Why she needs three knives isn't something she'll share outright, but Daryl's caution is wise. She can go from no trouble at all to the worst trouble at this crash site in no time at all. Preferably, it won't come to that. ]

[ With how beat up the other boy was, and the darkness of the ship, he's not sure he would have actually recognised Tommy - he likes to think he would, but that means very little. He recognises the voice and his own name before his eyes really make out his friend.

Shit, he looks like hell, and Newt isn't sure why which is terrifying. When had he gotten so klunky looking? The greeting that falls from his lips isn't the kindest, but it's what comes to his mind. ]

Tommy, ya look like hell, what happened?

[ Steadying himself, he moves closer to his friend, leaning down to get a better look of his war-zone of a face. Without much thought, Newt's hands move to unfasten Thomas's restraints, wanting to get the other boy up and out of there and into better light where his injuries can be better assessed. Worry floods his senses when he actually notices the look Thomas is giving him, and the blond can't exactly be sure but he looks like he's about to cry. The sight in itself is a terrifying one because Newt assumes it's due to the pain he's in and not his quandary of seeing what appears to be a ghost.

It might even be touching that someone cared about his loss so much, when Alby seemed to be forgotten so quickly but those thoughts are the farthest thing from his mind right now. ]

C'mon, let's get ya into the light where I can look at your shucky lookin' face.

[ When Thomas is free from the belt that had been fastened around him, Newt places a hand on his friend's knee to balance himself as he leans over to yank the backpack from under his seat. His own backpack weighs on his back, but he hasn't really had a chance to go through it completely; he wanted the light outside so he could see better but now his thoughts are on Thomas's health.

A little awkwardly, he straightens back out and slides the second backpack over his shoulder for the time being, the heaviness of them both is ignored in favour for Thomas. ]

Can ya stand? [ Despite the question, his free hand is already reaching out to help his friend up, unsure if he's going to need to help him walk out of the ship too. ]

«« a »»
[ A metal cavern. He is inside a metal cavern, and without his swords. Being in a strange place - double up strange because the surroundings were so confusing in their unfamiliarity. It makes him very uneasy and wary.

But while he might be disoriented, he's going to search for some for some form of weapon that he might be ale to use. While he does though, he stops to see if the people who have been crushed in any way are alive or dead. All the while he's both silent and light on his feet, not even showing a change in expression as he comes across corpses. ]

«« b »»
[ At least forests like this one is not unfamiliar to him. Up until now he's been incredibly tense, but upon seeing something that's not entirely stranger, much of the tension disappears out of his shoulders. That doesn't mean that he lets his guard down, though. He has found a long knife that he's stuck into his belt, but he also wants something that can work as a replacement for his long swords, so first thing he does is search for any branches thick and long and straight enough that he might be able to cut down. ]

[Alex glances up at the other guy's face at the sarcasm, brows arching slightly before he grins, a flash of white against the darkness. Newt might catch a glimpse of his canines, slightly more prominent than they technically should be (for a human). At Newt's comment about bleeding, Alex makes a soft sound in question, lifting his fingers to gingerly touch the spot. A grimace, but he drops his hand.]

I'm good. [He glances down at the bag, however, leaning to grab it and grimacing again because he feels like one giant bruise.] Shit... You didn't happen to get the number of that truck, did you? [His fingers grab the bag's strap and he pulls it free, again shaking his head.]

Honest, I'm fine... It'll heal. [Only he doesn't mean in the next few days; he means it will heal almost fully before they've even gotten off the shuttle craft. The scent of blood was heavy in the air around them, people crying and screaming as they fought to get free. Golden eyes focus on Newt again and he gestures toward the opening.]

We should get off this thing... even without power something could spark or the whole damn thing could collapse. [Hed noticed that Newt was standing with his weight uncentered, favoring one leg more than the other.] You need a hand? [Sure, Newt could refuse, but he could at least offer, right?]

[ It was not like Zhao Yun was badly wounded, and he had not considered it serious enough to need immediate attention as he had prioritized finding a weapon (he did find a knife, which is better than nothing but not as good as a sword) and his side was stained with blood that was starting to dry as the cloth was sticking to his wound.

He had been about to investigate the outside of the metal mountain, still ignoring his side, but now he stopped. Instead of saying anything in response to the strangers offer, he stares silently at his hand. A lizards claw... ]

Are you xian? [ A wary question. He wants nothing to do with the xians, besides killing the Nanhua xian's disciple Liu Bei. ]

[ Signs seemed to point to stranded. The vast desert in one direction didn’t look like it was home to anything but sand and the city in the other direction didn’t exactly look lived-in, but she should know better than to assume. She’d seen people living in worse back on Pandora.

Maya sets aside the pack in favor of grabbing another from the pile. ]

I don’t. I don’t even remember leaving Pandora, let alone hopping on a shuttle and crashing.

“Light Bright”? Really?

[ She tries to sound annoyed, she really does, but she comes off as dryly amused, and follows him away from the wreckage. ]

I’m going to guess, just because this is the way my life seems to go lately, that there are probably big hungry animals in that forest. Are you armed?

It’s bleeding an awful lot for a scratch. I can heal you, but it’s better if we get outside first.

[ u tried Rosie. ]

I have. Why?

Not — yet. [ the sound of the words is slightly muffled as he again sticks the thin flashlight between his teeth. with the added light and both hands free, he resumes the task of trying to open the panel with gusto and a singular screwdriver.

what he wouldn't give for a spanner right about now. or a ship. he'd sell out everyone for a working ship. ]

Near everything's fried. Some of it can be salvaged, [ with a disgusted exhale, he grabs his flashlight in his left hand and shakes out his right, scowling at the panel as he does, ] but it's gonna need repair.

[ more to himself; ] This would be so much easier if I had a single toolbox.

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Page 5 of 27

JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

hahahahahahahahhahahhah gjrklfjldksgjregavfdsfsa i should be sorry but im not

Yukimura Sanada | Samurai Deeper Kyo

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boooooty~

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Finn | Star Wars - likely to contain spoilers in comments

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ha ha ha right in maze runner hell where you belong

Zhao Yun | Rampage

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alllright~

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