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Reach Mods ([personal profile] reachguide) wrote in [community profile] reachlounge2017-09-30 07:32 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME #001


Test Drive Meme #001
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Shut The Window
Content Warnings: spores, illness, death

Living on the reach has its highs and lows. Life in the tower can be claustrophobic at best, and time drags on at an achingly slow pace. The coalition is in a constant state of "planning" the next expedition, leaving reachers to do nothing but wait for word that they'll finally be allowed to explore beyond the tower. It's Wednesday, 3 PM, and Anthony, cook and coalition guide, has a pot of stew going on the stove. An average day, and the scent is as overwhelming as it always is within cramped quarters. There are very few windows in the tower, one right above the kitchen sink, and Anthony, taking pity on the reachers, cracks it open.

Everyone eats. Everyone is fine.

Thursday comes and goes. Friday is sweltering hot but passes uneventfully. Saturday morning arrives, and everyone wakes with a sore throat. Easily brushed aside at first, the day ticks by and daily chores are finished before the first reacher succumbs to a fever. The guides usher everyone to their rooms for quarantine, locking the door behind them. The sickness is slow to start, but after the fever hits, symptoms show rapidly - shivering, exhaustion, aches, the skin turns a pale green and paranoia sets in. Death is a sudden thing, taking everyone out until only two are left. By this time, the coalition has discovered the source of the sickness and created a limited amount of medicine to stall the symptoms until a cure can be developed. A small envelope is slid under the door. A note says one hour.

There is one syringe. Who gets to use it?

Know Your Place
Content Warnings: violence, starvation, death

The haze is acting up, swirling plumes of color arching out and circling the island. Touching tree, plant, and human alike. With it comes a change in temperature. The standard eighty or above drops below zero in a matter of hours, trapping everyone inside as snow falls and ice forms over every surface. Learning from previous mistakes, the guides have everyone spread out into separate rooms, and while sleeping, lock the doors to keep all reachers inside. Using the communication devices, the tower guides inform everyone of two things: don't try to come out, and be patient, it'll pass soon.

That was two days ago, and the little bit of supplies stored in each room has been used up.

Showing more evidence of sentience, and cruelty, the haze briefly envelopes the tower and gives each person a nudge - this comes in the form of a violent, uncontrollable urge to get free. Reachers will learn, if they attempt to break out of their room, that they are met with no resistance. Traveling down to the kitchen and common rooms, there is no noise and no sign of anyone else. There's a noise behind you on the steps, and that urge shifts into something deeper, uncomfortable. Hunger. Two reachers are left in the tower. You and another. Options are limited. Go out and brace the subzero temperatures, or find food elsewhere. What choice do you make?



OOC INFORMATION
These prompts are to simulate what kind of events might come up in game. Players are more than welcome to thread out arriving, living in the tower, or general exploration if they'd like. Please mark your top levels with content warnings and if something comes up later in a thread, please put the content warning in the subject line of a comment. The threads on this meme may not be used for canon this time, but future tdm's may allow it.




crowkiller: (pic#10588751)

Zevran Arainai | Dragon Age

[personal profile] crowkiller 2017-10-01 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
Know Your Place

[He woke up to cold. His body shivering as he pulls what little he has to body. He feel the furs against him, but it doesn't stop the goosebumps rising. He can see his breath as he breaths, each suck of cold air hurt his chest. He was use to the cold Ferelden nights, but this was a little ridiculous.]

Maldito.

[His teeth chattered as he stood up, his hands rubbing at his arms to try and get some friction and heat between his skin. His ears start to hurt as the cold gets to them as well. His eyes glance around the room and he picks up whatever he can that looks warm. A blanket, a rug, some towels-- whatever he could find honestly. It was only when he completely covers his body in linen that he went to the door. It was locked.

His one weakness. He sighs heavily as he stares down at the lock. The Warden and Leliana had taught him some lock picking, but without his tools that was all useless. His stare narrows to a glare the longer his gaze is fixed on the lock. He didn't know why the guides locked him in, but he didn't appreciate it at all. He isn't sure why it makes him so angry or why it only takes only a quick body check against the door for it to open. So much for locks.]


Hello?

[It's so quiet. He isn't sure why. There were dozens of people with him before. They couldn't have all left, but after checking every room he sees that he is indeed alone. He don't think too much about it, he's use to this so he moves on from it quickly. He needs to get supplies and move out, but looking though the kitchen proves to be worthless. There is nothing left.

He's standing on top of the counter, searching for anything he can use, when he hears a noise. Foot steps. He reaches under his many layers for the knife at his belt. His fingers wrap around the hilt of the blade as he draws it out. He pivots on the balls of his feet towards way he heard the footsteps. His hand with a blade moves across body, blade pointed outwards, in a defensive position. He's ready for a fight, but he pauses when he sees it's another who had been in the group. Guess they were both left behind.]


Oh. [His arm falls back to his side.] Is this what is called the 'short end of the stick'?
tonant: (Girls who wore pink Boys that wore blue)

Kanji Tatsumi | Persona 4 | CRAU

[personal profile] tonant 2017-10-03 01:20 am (UTC)(link)
shut the window
cw: prompt, careless disregard for the concept of 'death' as a permanent state

[ For all the chaos of arrival, the introductions, the oddity of uniformity of clothing, of all things- Ochre felt rather at home in the tower. Chances of death, of torture and change, those were, well.

He hadn't gotten used to them, but he'd learned to live with them.

Basically everything ached, the slow burn of the fever wrecking him with a slow torture he'd not gotten used to, but still, he figured out that there was likely some end game goal here.

When the note arrives, it takes him a while to pick it up, and then longer to crawl back to where he'd left his phone.
]

take the meds

[ Ochre- actually has no idea who's on the other end of the line, who else is alive, but. He's died before, both in the last place, and back home. He's got this. ]

know your place
cw: prompt

[ Screw waiting.

Ochre gives one message out to the rest of the network before he leaves his room. He ran out of food a while ago, and he doesn't have patience to wait for a response.

If they didn't want people breaking down the doors, they should have left more than a day's worth of food.
]

The hell's it so cold for?

[ It takes him three steps of freedom before he goes back into his room, snagging his blanket for warmth. If anyone says shit, he can just beat them up, it's too cold for this crap.

The kitchen's easy to find, and Ochre starts rummaging through the cupboards, looking for anything that hadn't been portioned out to the rooms already.

He doesn't make much of an effort to keep the noise down, having already found and stolen a chair, dragging it along with him as he digs for food, never letting it leave his arm's reach.
It's nothing like the shield he'd used before, or even the folding chairs he's more used to,
but the wood looks solid, so it'd be good enough to keep people off his back.
]
endothermeic: (Snowball Offensive)

Mei-Ling Zhou | Overwatch

[personal profile] endothermeic 2017-10-04 04:00 am (UTC)(link)
Shut The Window (cw: see prompt)

[When the fever set in on Saturday she had to chuckle to herself over it really. A lovely, warming meal only a few days earlier and a couple of days peace ruined by illness. Mei's optimism takes a blow when it becomes apparent this isn't just a small bug making the rounds though.

By the time the sickness has progressed and the envelope is slipped under the door, making the short walk to retrieve it has become a whole undertaking in itself. Her body is wracked by shakes and pains, never mind the discolouration of her skin and growing paranoia. But all the same, she crosses the room to grab the letter and check what's going on...

One hour? And a syringe. Great.

Mei makes the trek over the bed of the person who had been quarantined with her throughout this whole ordeal. It's hard, painfully so, but she manages a smile and holds up the syringe so the other person can see it.]


It looks like help has arrived! The question now is would you rather me poke you in your right arm or your left?

[Of course she's passing on the medicine... Though the paranoia growing in her mind soon causes that smile of hers to vanish.]

Know Your Place (cw: see prompt)

[The dropping temperature as the cold set in reminded of her home, of her time at the Ecopoint. Perhaps things will go better than the last time she was trapped out in the cold with dwindling supplies...

No. It's just as bad.

Breaking out of her room was easier than expected, but perhaps that's thanks to the urge to escape bubbling up inside her. The sore and bruised shoulder was worth being able to walk around again.

Making her way to the kitchen while taking note of how unusually quiet the whole place is, hunger soon takes over. Nothing comes from scouring the kitchen however as she searches through cupboards and cooking utensils. Pots and pans slam against the floor, cutlery rattles as Mei pulls out a draw in search of food.]


Oh no, no no no... Is there really nothing? It can't be... One of these cupboards must have something, anything...!

[While Mei panics about the kitchen, one thing she seems to be handling well is the cold. She has her clothes and a blanket around her shoulders, but other than that it's as though the temperature barely matters to her.]
chargedblade: (SIGN | 007)

Ky Kiske | Guilty Gear

[personal profile] chargedblade 2017-10-05 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
A. SHUT THE WINDOW
Ky has never been this ill before. He's endured body aches and injuries and fevers, but not something that feels like he's deteriorating from the inside out. The sickness is painful in a way that isn't sharp like a wound; instead, he's burning and slowly turning into ash, wasting into nothing by simply breathing. The effect is made a hundred times worse by the invasive, anxious thoughts that continue to creep into his mind. Thoughts that make him question what they had eaten, whether he could still move his limbs, whether he isn't already dead. Thoughts he knows he shouldn't dwell on, but can't help it.

When the note appears beneath the door, he barely suppresses the irrational urge to angrily shove it back. People are already dead. They're too slow. They're too late. But he forces himself to read it anyway, for the sake of finding answers.

"It's medicine," he finally announces to his fellow survivor. Ky tenderly picks up the syringe to show it off. "It doesn't cure, but it should stall the symptoms."

He stares at it warily for a moment before adding, "...so they claim."
B. KNOW YOUR PLACE
Another disaster? Ky wonders as he steps through the seemingly deserted common room. Ky's desperate attempt to escape his room was successful, but the surge of victory he felt was dampened by the cold that greeted him from the empty areas. He thought their guides had done better in response to the emergency this time... was it really all in vain? Were the guides alive? Was anyone?

The moment the thought crosses his mind, he hears the footsteps of another. His stomach suddenly lurches for a moment, reminding him of his need for food soon, as he turns to face the source of the sound.

"You survived as well?" He isn't sure if what he's feeling is hope or hunger.
C. WILDCARD
( Feel free to adjust these prompts or toss another kind of prompt my way! A quick character summary: Ky is a lawful good type of character who strives to defend those in need and fight against injustices. He has experience in fighting in a war, can be prone to emotional outbursts when he's angry or upset enough, and comes from a 'future' Earth where 2017 technology is illegal. I'm cool with poking at these for a thread!)
skypiercer: (pic#11486489)

Fran | Final Fantasy VII

[personal profile] skypiercer 2017-10-12 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
Know Your Place

The chill of the air was reminiscent. The excursions through the Paramina Rift had left her with bittersweet nostalgia. In retrospect, those times had seemed so... warm. And welcome. In comparison with the present, anyroad. Mayhaps it was the company. Even with Vaan's oft immature demeanour, Fran couldn't help thinking she missed his childish banter with Penelo. In truth, she missed them all. Not that she would have found herself saying so.

Except perhaps in the quiet of her own mind.

Bundled up on the floor, Fran was locked into thought. Caught between the past and the present, the former being without practicality in the face of the situation. Appreciating the past and missing it would not help her survive. She needed to survive. In hopes that one day she might be reunited with the others.

Survival would depend on what to do, however. Find food. Scavenge. Find shelter from the biting cold. It wasn't until she was trembling that she truly understood how cold she was. And how concerned she was over her own future prospects. What if she... couldn't survive this? Nay. That was a defeatist notion. She could not suffer herself to think like so.

Bound up in a thin blanket that might as well have been naught at all, Fran trudged slowly toward the door and resting her weight against it, she forced it open. Not that it took much. Freedom didn't seem such a precious commodity, after all. In the hallway corridor she saw nothing at first. No one. An eerie silence. Unpleasant. Disconcerting. Her Viera senses did nothing to help her.

But her eyes still worked. And so too did her ears. She was certain she saw someone in the distance. Hallucination or not, perhaps even delusions would be better than her solitude. Fran could only stoically hope.