TEST DRIVE MEME

[eluviomods]

// TEST DRIVE_ Welcome to Eluvio's first Test Drive Meme! Whether you'd like to try out a character in the setting, get some samples for your application, or just mess around and have fun, this is the place to do it. If you're getting samples together, remember that you need at least four comments made by you in the thread for it to count. Test drive threads can be used as game canon if both parties agree and the thread fits with what's going on currently in the game. Pick any of the scenarios below or make up any of your own. This is space! There are infinite worlds and possibilities. If you'd like to thread out hijacking a ship, it might not be eligible for becoming game canon but it would still count as a sample. The most important thing is to have fun! ➣ SCENARIO 001. It's a normal day aboard the Eluvio. Maybe you're on your way to work. Maybe you're hanging out with friends. You can even be up to nefarious misdeeds. Whatever the case, you're having a relatively uneventful day. And then you see it. From a distance, it looks like a ball of fur. Up close, it looks like a ball of fur. If you touch it, it will chitter at you. It will vibrate and purr. Where this is coming from is anyone's guess because even if you turn it over, there's nothing to see but more fur. It's pretty harmless, though. Leave it there. Take it with you. The choice is yours. As you continue about your day, you'll begin to notice more of these little furballs. On the ground. Sitting on tables. Here and there at random intervals. By the end of the day, they're fucking everywhere. Good luck! If you get overwhelmed, maybe go talk to that bald starship captain who showed up last week. He might know something about the furry invaders. ➣ SCENARIO 002. Congratulations! You've been selected to be part of the team being sent down to the planet around which the fleet is currently orbiting. Initial scans of the surface show that oxygen is in abundance, temperatures support carbon-based life-forms, and there aren't any large quantities of poisonous gases that might pose problems. Your mission is to secure a landing site, set up a camp, and locate edible flora and fauna. Stores aboard ship are running a bit low on food and it's projected to be another three weeks before the fleet reaches a station large enough to replenish supplies. Once identified, larger parties will be sent to the surface to help hunt and gather. The good news is, scans show fruits, vegetables, and animals are plentiful. The bad news is that once your ship lands on the planet, everything goes sideways. An unexpected ion storm sweeps through the solar system, shorting out communications between the fleet and the team. It wreaks havoc with the electronics planet-side too, temporarily shorting out the smaller craft's navigational array. Until it passes, about six standard days, you're stuck down there. And the bountiful harvest isn't without its dangers. Even the most docile looking animal will attack. Sampling the fruits and vegetables will cause temporary paralysis, hallucinations, and psychosis. Inhaling pollen will bring out a person's baser instincts. The planet itself is predatory, you see. Everything on it has evolved to entice visitors from nearby systems and kill them. And the fleet's unwittingly taken the bait. ➣ SCENARIO 003. It's been a rough day. Everything's going wrong. Machines are breaking down everywhere. The owner of your favorite business wasn't there today and the store was closed when you stopped by to pick something up. A coworker didn't show up for work, leaving you with an interested workload. And now it feels like you're being watched. It started about ten minutes ago, but whenever you turn to look, there's no one there. The feeling doesn't go away, though. No matter where you are, it feels like eyes are watching. Did you hear something? A quiet, scuffling scratching sound just for a second? Maybe you did. Maybe you didn't. But it came from the misshapen monstrosity that just punched a hole through the bulkhead right beside you. The creature makes a low, wet gargling noises and darts toward you: six to seven feet tall, vaguely humanoid, and covered in strange growths over which is stretched bubbling grayish-brown skin. Maybe you notice tatters of familiar clothing hanging off of it. Or there's enough left of its eyes to recognize the shape and color. Or maybe something about the noises it's making sound familiar. It's your missing coworker and it looks like the unfortunate soul ran afoul of that weird slimy creature the science team brought back from that jungle planet a month ago. The good news: you can kill it. The bad news: it can kill you. It's fast, it's hungry, and it reproduces at an alarming rate. A single bite can transfer the parasites in its bloodstream to you. Then you'll be just like your buddy. And that shop owner you like so much. And all of the people on Level 12. And... ➣ SCENARIO 004. You're welcomed and encouraged to make up your own scenarios. As you can see, there will be a wide variety of the types of things your character will encounter in this game. So feel free to make your starters as horrific, sexy, lighthearted, action-packed, or slice of life as you'd like. Make up a planet, make up a location on the Eluvio, make up a ship in the fleet, fight off a zombie alien invasion, NPC Captain Picard, there's no limit to what you can do on the TDM.

PLEASE USE OUR NEW TDM HERE!

Comments

[rumbling]

[ Of course. He just has to be stuck with the talkative one. So much for stealth on a mission. As much as he doesn't want to go back to the Freelancer days, but his teammates knew to leave him alone and not engage in conversation when he's busy trying to save their asses from the guns firing at their backs.

Nevermind that he's never really been the talkative type. Now it's just impossible even if he wanted to.

Not that he does.

So he doesn't. Not right away. There's something disturbing lurking just ahead to the right, he can see it on his motion sensors. Or, well, he can when they work well enough. The HUD is mostly static, jumpy. But it gives enough info that he keeps using it when he goes out. It's helpful. Sort of.

He grunts a noise, muffled through his suit, before punching in a quick: maine on the comms. If the whole thing goes through, great. If it doesn't, he doesn't really care. This isn't the Universe's Next Best Friend show!!! But, he doesn't stop, he keeps moving because of that dot on his sensors. They're about to have company. Now, he supposes, he'll see if she can pull her weight.

Maine's steps slow and he points to the right. They can flank—he'll come in from the left. There's a glitchy electric crackling before his camo activates and he fades into nothing but a glimmer in the peripheral. It's not going to last long, it never does. Sure as shit doesn't work with the fluctuating storm down here, but he can get a little use out of it. It takes him through a copse of trees to come around on the left. There's a low rumble, bear-like in nature and maybe this fight won't be so cut-dry boring.

The camo shorts out and he flickers back into view just as the lumbering beast charges. He's not going to waste rounds just yet, so he meets it in a bodily crash, his boots digging into the earth beneath his feet in the skid. Large, dripping jaws snap at the helmet. The baser instinct kicks in and he takes a swing, the force behind it knocking the furry lump of a beast back.

Well. At least this isn't boring! ]

[doxing]

(it should be the universe's best friend show, honestly, two forces of nature slumming it together, throwing shade and haymakers at aliens... cult classic material. sombra deigns to lower her gaze when the name comes through, processing it with a purse of pink lips, glancing over at him. trying to judge if it suits the no-nonsense tower of a man, coming up with little in the way of an opinion. well enough, she guesses, dubbing it his surname until she can gather more details on him, slowing only when a gloved finger motions out — something.

oh good, an enemy. she thought this was going to be another cakewalk.)

Nice choice, right is one of my good sides. It's all about angles, Maine.

(if there are any great photo ops, he'll be the first to be let in on the secret. she's parting with a smirk and a saucy mock salute.

falls into a brisk run in the direction offered up to her, light steps taking her silently through the denser underbrush. careful not to disturb branches, trip up on roots, and crush piles of noisy leaves underfoot, sombra is hot on their disturbance's trail. she does finds it humbling (read: funny) that two of the more unlikely eluvio crew members share very, very similar technology, despite its decided lack of assistance in this planet's upheaving atmosphere, unimpressed when her own thermoptic camo leaves her a shuddering pink outline instead of something expressly useful. a click of her tongue at it, digging her heels in when she can sight the creature out.

and watch it receive a hard beating from maine, sombra suffering a sharp laugh before grabbing at the device on her back and whipping it into the air.)

—Over here, velludo! (a distraction from the right, as her translocator kicks in mid-flight and sends her in a downward arc at the beast's back, machine pistol raised with a very obvious inclination to snuff this thing out.

the noise is for maine, drawing the creature's impressive jaws and bad fucking breath her way, leaving him enough time to slot in another attack. she's more than capable of dancing for this thing as it lunges and snaps in her direction, smirking nastily at its confusion. what does it pay attention to? an immediate threat from the front, flesh getting peppered with short bursts of stinging ammunition, or the brawler to its side where its reach is minimal? tough decision, but the smaller, flashier, glowing piece of meat wins by a country mile.

less armour to chew through, maybe. totally biased, in sombra's opinion.)

Put your back into it, hahaha!