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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
[ Gamora's skeptical, but it's also not her problem. Though, she will at least add, as she moves on with her own search, ]
Well, I don't plan on stopping anyone from picking up other items from these, if someone happens to suddenly recall not having enough food in their own.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[ In case she overlooked that one, too. ]
no subject
[ That can also be translated to, yes, thank you, she won't forget water. ]
My name's Rose, by the way. Figure we might as well get the formalities out of the way since it looks like everyone's gonna' have a lot more to worry about soon.
no subject
Gamora. [ And that's all. No "nice to meet you" here. ] And you're right. You should be worrying about getting to better shelter before night or cleaning out that drop ship to use instead.
sorry about the delay! life and school caught up to me
[ It's an idle, friendly question. Obviously, there isn't any recognition of the woman's name. Rose is oblivious to who she is in her world... though the green hue to her skin does, indeed, lead her to believe Gamora is otherworldly. ]
I was, uh, actually probably going to see what that foresty jungle type was all about. I can probably make a decent shelter out there.
[ ...Sure. ]