![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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
...How? [ he starts in, but you know what, more important things to deal with. she has a method, let's move on. ] There's gotta be something sharp around here we can use. Or at least, I dunno, a pointy stick.
[ that said, thomas starts heading towards some more of the ruins, trying to look through twisted, eroded structure, pulling at bars half sticking out of concrete in places to see if they'll dislodge. ]
no subject
[ Well, he may not have wanted an answer, but he got one anyway.
She starts rooting through part of the ruined building as well. There are a couple of wooden beams, but they either crumble to dust or are too large to be used effectively. ] It looks like whoever lived here has been gone a long, long time.
no subject
[ as if she has any reason to lie about it? it's less disbelief of her, more 'holy shit what even is the world anymore'. he's seen plenty of things that probably should be impossible by now, and yet, the fact someone figured it out to make it happen sort of thrills him. in a nerdy kind of way. ]
How's it work? Is there like a device or an implant or something? [ because even telepathy is something that spawns from technology, where he's from. and he should probably be looking for that weapon, and he is, kind of. in the vaguely sweeping eyes across things sort of way. ]