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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.
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I am Hakuryuu. [He assumes that he's mistaking him for someone else. In the end he glances toward the broken down--- thing.]
I do not know what is going on, but I would like to help where I am able. Your wound should be addressed before any more actions are taken.
no subject
Hakuryuu? [ He's still not convinced. The title or name doesn't sound Chinese, so perhaps it's a foreign xian. They do have white hair and partial odd appearances. ]
I can handle it on my own once I am done with this.
no subject
[If that makes it easier. Still, he frowns. If he says he is all right, then there's really no choice but to believe him. He glances up toward everything, his head tilted to the side in question.]
What are you trying to do?
no subject
[ Kija sounded simpler than Hakuryuu. Wasn't there sa sage called something similar? An old king who brought Chinese civilization to Joseon a long time ago? This guy hardly looked like a king though, he still looked more like a xian. ]
Scout.