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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[ There's a soft creak as Groot retracts his hand sheepishly. Are all of his friends going to be like this? Insisting they're fine even as they bleed-

Oh. Oh. She was talking about the knife. And, to be fair, he doesn't think Gamora knows who it is that's approached her. He can be pretty quiet if there's soil around, and there's plenty of that here, wherever here is.

Still, he's gentle as he extends his hand again, pointing towards the gash on her temple. ] I am Groot.

The simple action and silence afterwards spoke volumes and Bucky caught the hint. He ran a hand through his hair, combing it back out of his eyes, and looked up from where he sat.

"What's the third question? Did they deserve it?" He shook his head. "If this is a personality quiz, I'm probably not the best candidate. If they're here--HYDRA--if they find me and wipe me again, I'm dangerous." Too dangerous. The only person that had ever stopped him, was he even here? Probably not. "If we're stuck here for a while, and something happens... If I start killing, don't fight me. Run. Take everyone you can and get as far away from me as possible. Don't try reasoning with me. It won't matter who you are or what you say. I'm a weapon." He let out a breath and rested his hand on the metal plate. "I wish I could give you more than that. A kill switch or a trump card..." He shrugged.

"We all have our demons." His were different than Daryl's, but he had a feeling they were just as potent as Daryl's.

"So, snares? You're an experienced hunter?" Yep, subject shift. Assuming Daryl still wants anything to do with the assassin.

[ Kory hums. There's no recognition of the name, but Gamora doesn't look entirely human, safe to say she might not be from Earth. ]

I am from Tamaran.

[ Here's hoping he ducked, because with her hand that isn't occupied by the flashlight? Gamora makes a fist. She winds up for a punch and lets it fly, hitting a spot where the panel is bolted down as hard as she can. Now, here's the nice thing about having wildly augmented strength. Metal dents, even easier since it's thinner sheets for the inside of a ship.

The screw pops, the sudden impact having separated it from its hole.

From there, she can just hook her fingers under it and begin prying the panel up.

Hey, he had said only some of this junk could be salvaged. No real need to be gentle, in that case. ]

[ She was, once. She was able to perform without a care in the world, but that... That was only a pipe dream that she'd probably never see fulfilled. ]

Why, you looking for a show? [ The blond flashes a grin, pointing one of her feet to show off her leg. As quick as she does that, however, she pulls it back and stands upright again. ] Too bad! You're looking in the wrong place. I'm a classy lady, thank you.

[ She says... parading around in short shorts... ]

Despite what her appearance may tell him, she doesn't look away as he jabs the corpse through the eye. There's a small flinch - that's a natural reaction, right? - but otherwise she seems to be not as squeamish as one might guess. She doesn't like it, of course, but it's... not actually anything new to the blond. That life may be a good thirty years behind her now but parts of it still linger. Always will, probably.

"Not sure a knife would be much 'prettier,' but I'll take your word for it." Rose listens to him say that she needs to the brain, but this really isn't answering her initial question of 'Why?' He mentions not letting them bite or scratch... Suddenly, years of TV and movies come to mind. 'When the dead walk' as taglines and campy, cheesy teenage horror flicks about viruses and the like causing people to reanimate.

That was just television though, right? People didn't actually come back to life, right?

"Uh. Are you trying to tell me that people who die might not be like dead dead? Dead for good?" Since, in her reality, that's only in the realm of science-fiction at this point. And it leads to the realization that maybe, just maybe, they might not all be from the same place.

[ Aw, bummer. That was such a good reference too... ]

I just wondered. Most people where I come from, if they have powers, aren't... really accepted, so. You don't see it a lot! It exists, but. A lot of people are still afraid to make it known if they can do anything outside of the 'norm.' [ For good reason, too. Her kind is a perfect example of 'monsters' that are usually slain soon as they reveal themselves. ]

You can heal, too? Is there anything you can't do? [ Which isn't meant as a jab. She actually sounds genuinely awed. ]

[ Consider the teenager completely unaffected by his increasing grumpiness. He keeps the comment of "well you're weird lookin' enough to be, shuck-face" to himself, and instead simply raises eyebrows up his forehead.

It's clear by his expression he's not an ounce convinced. ]

If I stole a bunch of people and wiped their brains, I wouldn't want 'em to know I did it either. [ To be fair, that could put him as a possible kidnapper, but he's not really thinking like that at the moment, it's more sass to sass. ]

What's with that, then? [ He gestures with the flashlight at what he had been fiddling with before. ]

I know. Pretty sure I made it clear you shouldn't. Typical punk. You never listen.

[Buck could understand his own memory lapse. He was surprised he had any kind of memory left at all after all the tampering HYDRA did, but Steve? Something else was going on here, then.]

Agreed. We can cross that bridge when we come to it. First and foremost, moving the survivors away from the potential explosion. We should organise the wounded to set the pace. Able bodies should carry supplies and aid those who can't walk on their own.

Daryl watched him through his short speech, eyes focusing from under dark lashes and hair now stringy with sweat. He didn't move away, didn't flinch. Just let James get it out. He took the warning to heart, but he wasn't as worried as the kid was. Whoever or whatever 'hydra' was, he didn't think they were here. James was already wary for his own sake. Which was good.

He cocked his head to the side after James tried changing the subject. Stayed real quiet for several long moments. Kept eye contact.

When he spoke, it was a single, simple word, "Why." That was his third question. Didn't need a long explanation. Just wanted to know why. And James had answered that just fine.

[ (ಠ_ಠ) ]

That works too.

Zero had similarly gotten to his feet the moment he was able. However he likely spent longer within the ship. Enough so to grab two backpacks, and rip off a mangled piece of metal and fashion it into a very makeshift weapon. Everything simply more on instinct than otherwise.

Even when outside his sensed felt overloaded from the beginning. Blood, the sound of rapidly slowing pulse rates; humans and possibly otherwise. He shoved them all to the back of his mind. The intensity of the sun, too, was more than he'd ever care for. A fleeting memory came in the form of when Cross had taken he and Yuuki to a tropical island, and how he had all but passed out.

Still, he made his way. Reaching the wall didn't take much time. It was after he reached out to lightly touch it did he feel the other practically bearing a hole through him. . . along with a more familiar type of presence. Vampire. For now he wouldn't bother saying anything in those regards. Rather:

"I'm not the one to be annoyed at, you know."

[ooc: Hope it's okay that he sensed Mika being a vampire. Let me know if I should change anything.You're free to have him notice anything about Zero!]

Kory is already standing, though she hasn't been for long — bracing her palm flat on the side of the ship, breathing deeply to clear her head. The window lets in sunlight. She moves towards it on instinct.

'I don't remember,' she says, slowly. 'We must have been.'

She can smell smoke from somewhere, and there's a few sparks and creaks of metal from a destroyed ship. 'Do you recognise this planet?'

[ An arrangement she gives consideration, although a definite 'yes' or 'no' won't come for another minute. Gamora's still sizing Daryl up. Obviously not big or scary by any means, but definitely a survivor. Of what, she can't tell, but that part is hardly ever so apparent. In the end, she gives a nod and yanks the knife back up out of the dirt.

She flips it so she can carefully handle the blade, offering it up handle first. ]

Whoever dropped us here either didn't care if we were properly supplied or is hoping for the worst.

Even if you can't, it's still cool enough that it's what I'm gonna' call you from now on.

[ Besides, Star-Lord is... impersonal. Helps keep a certain level of detachment, which is good. Just like 'Rose' isn't her real name even if it might as well be at this point. Still. ]

I am a-okay! A little embarrassed, still upset over the fact that I was apparently on a space ship and don't remember, but otherwise totally alright! [ liAR ] Are you alright?

[ Watch where you point that disapproving emoticon, Han. ]

Faster than what you were doing. [ And off comes the panel. Surprisingly, she doesn't recklessly toss it aside. She'll actually set it down somewhere close, quietly. ] There.

[ it was definitely effective. no argument there. ] Thanks.

[ a beat. ]

Don't suppose you're also resistant to electric shocks.

[Daryl kept his approach as cautious as his questioning of her had been. His body turned mostly side-ways toward her rather than head on. He stopped just outside her easy reach (assuming she didn't lunge) and leaned over to take the handle. Waited until she'd released it to take two quick steps back and let his hand fold it into a comfortable and easy reverse grip.

He gave a shallow nod at her words, turned to go... then stopped just a few strides away and called back to her.]

You find anyone dead, you put one of those knives through their skull.

[ Gamora raises an eyebrow at that. Why whistle when they could just shout... all of everything he just said? Or, more likely, just a part. Or scream. ]

Is that your way of telling me to come save you when I hear you doing that?

[ Because Peter is clearly going to need saving at some point. From nature, probably. ]

Edited 2016-01-29 01:45 (UTC)

[ ah yes. it's time for the great sass-off.

I'm stripping whatever's still useful from this hunk of garbage. If you keep watch and stay quiet, [ lifting a pointed eyebrow, ] you might learn something.

[ he watches newt move and speak in the dim lighting as if in a trance, like this is a dream, and he's torn between jerking himself away from him and reaching out to touch him. as much as he wants this to be true, wants newt to miraculously be alive and well and safe, and have the one back home be the prop from WICKED, too many times he's been fooled by them. always, these days, he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. ]

How are you here?

[ thomas mumbles out, eyes still following newt as he goes about unbuckling him and picking up his pack, dazed, but unable to take his eyes from his face. it this is something wicked's done, they chose well if they wanted to throw him. eventually, his comes to his senses, and realizes newt has a hand out for him, asking a question, to which he eventually nods, after a moment of blinking. ]

Yeah. I'm good.

[ he's almost hesitant to take the hand offered, half afraid this'll all crumble if he touches him, and not really sure if he'd rather it did, or didn't, and let him take the ignorant bliss. either way, he takes the help a moment later, dragging himself up out of his chair with a hiss of pain, being suddenly reminded of the slash across his back from the griever blade, as the dried blood over the wound starts to crack with the stretch. it's a stumbling mix of steps trying to get over the others in the shuttle, and all the debris, thomas's eyes skimming around and trying to take details in, and once the light from outside his him, he's squinting back against it, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun, until his eyes adjust, and he can get a proper look at the area.

the forest, the desert, the ruins in the distance, and the shuttle... what the fuck, the shuttle? it makes no sense. even for WICKED, it makes no freaking sense. ]

What the hell is this?

[ IT'S GREAT STUFF, OKAY. Sh... she's sure it is, anyway ]

The canned food can't last too long, anyway. [ Even if more means it can last longer. Rose was probably going to hunt for something, eventually, but no one needs to know that. ]

... I do like food though. [ [insert concerned frown at the idea of going hungry (again) here]. ] Ah, what the heck. [ They ain't getting any deader. Besides, Rose would rather take what she can and give it up than the potential risk of it sitting here going unused when others might need it. ]

"They're dead," he answered as he started looking for another body to make sure it stayed dead. "Rot the same. They just stay hungry and moving."

Daryl didn't have much sympathy for those like her. Who were so protected they thought it was all just some made up fantasy. That was the impression he was getting from her. She cringed more than anything at the death, which he'd been surprised by. Expected her to gasp and gag or try to cover her eyes maybe. But other than that, she didn't seem that different than the kind of rich pricks that had looked down on him all his life. Too clean and pampered for her own good.

"Get out of here," he said after another moment of study, waving at the holes in the hull that acted as exits. "Make yourself useful to someone."

After a beat, just to make it clear he wasn't dismissing her on appearances sake, he huffed out some air and muttered in a kinder tone, "We got a lot to do, can't stand around jawing the whole time."

Bucky covered his face with a soft, huffed sound like a derisive laugh. "That so?" And now he felt like an idiot. Again. This was becoming a common trend for him.

"Good set of questions." He added after a moment, leaning back against the bulkhead.

[ the majority of the trek towards the ruins is spent in tense silence, after the first talk they'd had outside the shuttle, neither of them completely trusting of each other. if it had been anyone else - minho, brenda, jorge - thomas wouldn't have thought twice about it. but it's newt. and newt should be here. shouldn't be walking around, looking healthy and sane.

and beyond that, nothing seems to line up, aside from the fact WICKED is still as much of a problem for what newt remembers as thomas does. or, as much as it had been. but even still, it's differences that don't really make sense. why bother trying to follow him with something this obvious? is he supposed to be thinking that there's a better future out there somewhere? have some hope for it that can get crushed later?

and he always comes back to the same point - any time he thinks he knows what WICKED is trying to do, any time he tries to go against it, he ends up doing exactly what they wanted him to. just stop thinking about it. stop. ]

I said-- [ he pipes up, not sure he really wants to ask this question, but he'd already committed to it. may as well. ]

Chuck. Is he alive for you?

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JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME

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srry you get the sad introspection right off asdfghjkl

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:'D goodbye world

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