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JANUARY TEST DRIVE MEME
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.
With that, the power dies, leaving the drop ship in the dark, crackling and groaning as the hull cools from its catastrophic re-entry.
no subject
[ She glances around, looking for something innocuous to phaselock without catching the whole forest on fire. Eventually she finds a decent-sized stone lying around.
Her left hand comes up and her tattoos glow bright again, but this time instead of conjuring an orb of light in her palm, there's a sudden fwoosh sound, and the stone is lifted off the ground and suspended in a bubble of purple light (sorry Peter). A split second later and it explodes into flames, leaving its surface blackened from the fire. ]
no subject
[ He stares at the poor, burnt stone suspended in the mind bubble, mouth agape and eyes wide. Once the phaselock ends and the boulder is back on solid ground, Peter intones, ]
That's awesome.
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Yeah, yeah, so you can set stuff on fire with a thought. And you can make a purple bubble thing. I guess that's cool. But still-- no singing?
[ He clicks his tongue again, letting out a breath. ]
Who's gonna come with me to karaoke nights, now?
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Sure, that's the practical thing to do.