nolandspam | TEST DRIVE MEME

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TEST DRIVE MEME

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IF BOTH CHARACTERS APP IN AND AGREE, THREADS USING PROMPT 1 CAN BE COUNTED AS GAME CANON.
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PROMPT 1: ARRIVAL

You awake laying on your back in an, admittedly comfortable, pod. You can't move anything but your eyes, can't even feel your body yet. How you got here or why is a blank. You may have been in the middle of your day, asleep, or even- for what you remember- should be dead. Then a screen directly in front of your face flickers to life and in crisp, black and white displays: DON'T PANIC. The following video then plays:

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The screen flickers again and reads: CONGRATULATIONS ON PLANNING FOR THE FUTURE! WELCOME TO VAULT LIFE, CITIZEN. WELCOME TO YEAR: [ERROR]. YOUR PERSONAL BELONGINGS ARE LOCATED IN [FILE CORRUPTED. SEE SYSTEM ADMINISTRATOR]. ENJOY YOUR STAY AND THANK YOU FROM YOUR FRIENDS AT VAULT-TEC.

The pod then unseals and you are able to, unstably at first, climb out of the pod. Your body may feel foreign for a moment- perhaps entirely foreign if you suddenly find yourself a human, ghoul, or super mutant for the first time. But whatever your form, you have two items on: a bright blue jumpsuit with the number 66 in yellow on the back, and a mechanical device known as a Pip-boy sealed onto your arm. If you click on the buttons it takes you to an instruction screen.

You look around to find yourself in a room of other pods. Some are just opening, other people looking as confused as you climbing out. Others remain closed with the status of 'STASIS' on the screens attached to the pods. The rest of the room is less than impressive. Computer systems that seem out of place compared to the technology level of the pods are scattered across the room, apparently running the chambers. Trying to access them, even for the most talented hacker, will simply result in SEE OVERSEER being displayed. There is large metal door leading to the rest of the vault, a lever on the wall next to it that will cause it to open.

Welcome, dweller, to vault 66.

PROMPT 2: SETTLING IN

The living quarters of the vault leave something to be desired. While the current occupants of the vault have made some improvements, it's hard to ignore the pile of skeletons placed into storage (it’s a pretty impressive pile) and the mildew on the beds. It's clear that whatever happened to the last occupants of the vault, whoever they were, it wasn't exactly a peaceful end. The medical wing has some of the worst blood splatter...but that at least you can pretend was from needed medical interventions. Right?

Thankfully, the Vault has power at least. The juke box in the recreation area cheerfully pumps out some jazzy tunes and the refrigerators are happily humming along. There's also clean, if very mineral tasting, water in the sinks, toilets, and showers. There's a pool table if someone can relax enough for a game and doesn't mind the fact it looks like a pool cue shoved in the eye socket may have caused the death of a couple of the previously mentioned skeletons. Further, the kitchen is stocked with some food! It's all pre-apocalypse or some newly collected ‘meat’ (ask the current residents if you want to know), hyper preserved canned goods and sugary cereals that somehow haven't gone bad yet, but it's something.

Today all the local robots have been recalled by the newly found ‘Captain’ to undergo mandatory repairs and maintenance. They’re locked away in the Overseers office, leaving only the human residents to great the newly awakened dwellers. Or to do any of the other day to day tasks in the vault, like make food or keep things tidy. The pool table was cleaned before Louis took off, leaving a fine game open for people to try.

PROMPT 3: A Literal Exodus

The Vault opening earlier in the month lead to a few unintended side effects. First, of course, were the giant mirelurks and their young that had to be fought off. A few weeks later, though, there's a new one: frogs. In the now standing two feet of radioactive water in the entrance area, what used to be eggs in the water turned into tadpoles, then turned into frogs. Not super huge killer frogs or ones that shoot acid, mind you. Just somewhat ugly frogs, occasionally ones with two heads or eight legs or some other small mutation. And without their normal predators around (radroaches don't swim), they're starting to venture into the vault at a somewhat biblical plague level.

Dwellers can find them everywhere, in the food stores, in their beds, merrily croaking in the toilets. Sometimes they can gang up and take out a radroach or two (good for them), but more often or not the roaches will win, meaning even more of these insects are venturing into the open to snatch up these free meals. So the occasional radraoch in the bed may be happening too as they chase down a froggy snack.

Captain Simmons has requested the frogs be herded back into the entry way and that dwellers start working on a way to drain the radioactive water out of the area, but it's not much of a priority. For now, enjoy the newest Vault pets- or eat them, race them, or just get used to waking up to them bouncing on your pillow.

PIP-BOY CHATTER

Post text or audio messages to the pip-boy network to get to know your fellow dwellers!

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His lip curls in disgust at the mention of roaches and rats; he's not quite sure they're thinking of the same thing, but he's getting the idea that they're not pleasant at all.

He puts down the cue and shrugs. "I've never heard of it."

"We have to fix that! It's the only game we've got. Unless you can play chess in your head or something." There are two cues left that haven't been sharpened into spears or broken over something's skull, but one of them's tucked under the table. Yunlan crouches and pulls it out, then grabs the rack and starts organizing the balls.

"The object is to get all of your colored balls into the pockets, then sink this black ball with an 8 on it last. You can call stripes or solids, or go by whichever matches the first ball you sink. You can only hit that white ball there--" he points to the cue ball on the other end of the table-- "so you've got to aim it so that it knocks the other balls around however you want them to be knocked. It's a game of complicated geometry! And skill!

"And, usually, alcohol. But we'll skip that." His grin shows a few too many teeth.

Zuko picks the cue back up and gives it a look, testing the weight in his hand. He points the end of the cue at the white ball. "Hit the white ball," he repeats, just to make sure he's getting it right, "so that it hits either the solid balls-" he moves the tip of the cue toward a solid, then toward a stripe "-or the striped balls. The black eight ball remains on the table. Am I to understand that sinking the eight ball wins the game?"

"If you sink it after all your other colored balls. Otherwise, it's an automatic loss." Yunlan grins at him. "You can keep taking turns as long as you sink at least one colored ball and don't sink the white ball. Miss, or sink the white ball, and it's over to the other player -- and if you sank the white ball they can put it wherever they want to set up a good shot.

"Wanna give it a try? You can have the first turn."

With a flourish, he pulls the rack away from the triangle of pool balls and steps back from the table.

Zuko gives the triangle of balls sitting on one end of the table a considering look before hefting the cue again. There's probably a tried-and-true method to this, but there's really only one way to do this without it being ridiculously unwieldy. With the heavier end in his left hand, he uses his right to stabilize the front... and immediately switches hands.

He's pretty sure that the point of this first strike is to break apart the triangle - he doesn't see much else that can happen - so he aims for the one ball at the point of the triangle. Hopefully this is the right way to do things.

His attempt at hitting the white ball is not as could as it could be. He knows that as soon as he connects; the cue slips in his hands and the white ball doesn't hit the triangle hard to do much but send the outer layers toward the sides.

Well, it's a start. He scowls at the table.

"Hey, for a first shot, that's not bad!" He'd hit the cue ball and the cue ball had hit the racked balls. Yunlan has done much worse, although, to be fair, not while sober.

He leans over, lining up his own shot with one eye closed and his teeth catching his bottom lip. And... there!

Well, it sinks one ball: a chipped, striped one bounces off the edge of the pocket and spins itself in, mostly by luck. Buoyed by success, Yunlan misses sinking the ball he aims at next, and waves at Zuko.

"And it's over to you! I've got stripes now."

Zuko watches Yunlan pretty closely as he plays, taking note of how he's holding the cue. (Ah, he hadn't thought of wrapping a finger around the small end; that would help keep the cue from jumping.) He steps forward and nods; solids for him then.

He can do that. Maybe.

... Yeah, no, he misses by a few inches. This is harder then it looks. He scowls at the ball labeled with a "3" as it hits the side a couple inches from the pocket - then huffs when the white ball shoot straight into the pocket.

"More finesse," he says, "less force. Your turn."

"Good advice for pool and good advice for life!" Yunlan picks the cue ball out of the pocket, fiddling with it to get a perfect shot. If he gets this right, it ought to knock two of his in--

--and it looks almost perfect, too, except that the angle is off just enough that both of his targets bounce off the edges of the pockets instead. He makes a despairing noise, sinks back a step and scrubs his free hand through his hair.

"Ugh. More finesse, less ambition! I'm afraid it's back to you."

"You sound like my uncle." That is, if Uncle Iroh had known anything about pool. Zuko is absolutely certain that if he had, he would have found ways to immortalize it in his odd proverbs and sayings.

This would be a lot more frustrating if Yunlan had been wiping the floor with him. As it stands, though, a chance to make a good showing at least - he has no delusions of winning the game - gives him something to focus on other than the situation. (He suspects that is Yunlan's play here.) The situation is prime for one of Zuko's temper flare-ups and had he been losing spectacularly, Yunlan would be witness to it.

It's probably good that he's able to focus on the game. Zuko doesn't even like himself after being stupid about his temper; he doesn't want to lose the only company he has right now over it.

He does, however, have a bit of a vendetta against that three ball. It's not a perfect shot - the five is lined up nicely, he thinks - but it's good enough for a try. So try he does, and he's thinking of the spinning tops he had a kid when he hits the white ball; if he can just the angle right...

Somehow, someway, the three ball drops into a pocket and Zuko is allowed a moment a victory before he realizes that the white ball came to a stop up against the side, behind a couple striped balls and the eight ball.

"Oh," is all he says. He regards the table for a minute before abruptly stepping forward and just lightly tapping the white ball with the cue.

It rolls slowly, neatly stopping between a pocket and a little cluster of solid balls. He looks up, quirks one side of his mouth upwards, and dares Yunlan to say something about it.

"I hope that's a compliment and you're not calling me an old man," Yunlan shot back, grinning as he circled the table. "Very petty shot there, I like it! You learn fast, Zuko. Or is it Prince Zuko?"

If his sister is a Princess, well, he's either a Prince or he's already king. Or dramatically disinherited and cast into the wilderness with a team of wisecracking martial arts buddies before he can reclaim his throne, but that only happens in the cliche wuxia dramas that had been near and dear to Zhao Yunlan's teenage heart.

Eventually, he concludes there's just no way he's going to manage a meaningful shot from where the cue ball's lying right now, and aims a throwaway shot right at the cluster. Solid-colored balls roll in three different directions, nothing winds up in a pocket, and Yunlan shrugs and leans on his pool cue.

"Fire Lord," he corrects and, had he been a little more open about how he got to be the head of a nation, Yunlan's teenage heart may have been sated by the story. "Ruler of the Fire Nation. Please don't stand on ceremony, though. Just Zuko is fine."

He turns his attention to the table and frowns; he doesn't have any really good shots, unless he's missing something. (It's entirely possible he's missing something.) He aims for the two and ends up wincing at the sound his cue makes when it strikes the white ball - a hollow clack - and the end of the cue slips a bit.

The white ball does hit the two, but it really doesn't go anymore. Zuko scowls at it.

"So you are the king! Fire Lord, whatever." He waves a hand, grandiose for a moment, before glancing at the lay of the balls. Yeah, mostly terrible; he goes for a long shot, not paying too much attention, and surprises himself when it topples an entirely different striped ball into the pocket.

"Huh." And - whatever, he can take his next shot in a minute. He glances back up at Zuko, instead. "You're young to be leading a nation."

And the next shot. This one ends about how he'd expected for the last: completely missing the ball he'd aimed at and scratching. He waves at the pocket with the cue ball in it.

"Over to you. I am really out of practice with this shit."

Zuko inclines his head, acknowledging that point. Yeah, he's young for his position; he knows. He takes the white ball out of the pocket and shrugs while holding it. "Extraordinary circumstances," is all he says.

He puts the ball down, carefully lining up a shot he's pretty sure that he can make - which he does, nodding in satisfaction when the two ball falls neatly into a corner pocket. He misses the next shot, though, and he's not sure if this game is going to get easier or not as the balls clear out.

"We've got nothing but time," Yunlan says lightly, "and nuclear waste, of course. Think you're up for telling the story?"

Some things about the game are easier as the table gets less cluttered: it's going to be hard for Zuko to lodge the cue ball anywhere that really blocks Yunlan's shot again.

Some things are tougher, though. None of the striped balls are anywhere near a clear pocket. Yunlan scowls at the table, circling it a few times before he takes a shot that almost-- almost-- makes it in.

Zuko considers the curious question even as his gaze is on the table. It's not... well, it's not exactly a secret back home and he does wonder what Azula has or has not been telling people. He's well aware that his version of the story and hers will differ, but he's not sure where it will diverge.

He takes a shot first, sending the five toward a side pocket. He sinks it and the white ball just barely keeps from spinning in behind it.

As he rounds the table to take his next shot, he speaks. "The Fire Nation was at war. We started it by invading the neighboring kingdoms, deluded as to our own grandeur. That was a hundred years ago." What he doesn't say is that the war started with a genocide; starting an unfounded war is bad enough. He takes a shot, somewhat distracted, and misses it. He's not surprised.

Sighing, he stands up straight, cue resting against his shoulder. "I had a change of heart."

Six words to sum up some of the worst and best years of his life.

"So that's how Azula ended up deposed and in a straitjacket?" Yunlan circles to the other side of the table, leaning over and closing one eye to help his aim as he makes a few feints with his cue.

Yeah: he takes the shot. On the other side of the table, the cue ball cracks against the nine ball and tips it neatly into the pocket it had missed on his last shot.

"And how you wound up in charge."

He straightens up, cue in one hand as he meets Zuko's gaze thoughtfully.

"There's someone I know who I think you'd be good friends with. Shame he's not here."

With a quirk of a smile, half-sincere, half pained, he crossed back to Zuko's side of the table, leaned over, and took a shot that nearly tips one of his four remaining striped balls into a pocket. Well, he's one ahead of Zuko, anyway.

"Technically," he said, "she hadn't officially been crowned yet. And I'm older anyway, so..." There's so much more story in that; he'll tell it if asked.

"For the record, though, Azula ended up in a straightjacket because of a nervous breakdown and not because I just decided to through her in an asylum to get her out of the way." Zuko takes a moment to line up a shot and hisses in frustration when he misses.

"Who's your friend?"

"Oh, I didn't think it was just to get her out of the way. She's younger than you are, isn't she?"

Although Fire Nation inheritance wasn't necessarily to the oldest, he supposed. And if Zuko'd been opposing a hundred-year war...

... well, that'd get the people behind you, but not the nobility. The more powerful people were, the more they tended to like wars. And the more they were willing to give new leaders trouble, too. Having the only other rightful heir out of the way probably did help settle things down.

"Not just a friend!" He glances up at Zuko, grin sharp. "Shen Wei, my beloved. He was born into a war back when he was a kid, too, and led a bunch of his people to join in and end it."

Zuko can only think of the very few people he'd considered close enough to call friends and he knows that the pain of possibly never seeing them again doesn't really compare to a 'beloved.' "I'm sorry he's not with you." His brow furrows - as much as it can anyway, with the scar handicapping some expression. "Or you're not with him. Home might be better than here."

Depends on the war, he supposes. Yunlan did say it had ended.

"Nah," Yunlan said, and took a shot. The five ball wobbled and tipped into the pocket instead of the eleven he'd been aiming at, and he swore. "That's a foul, it's your turn."

He straightens up, and looks away, over at the door. "He's dead. But, last thing I knew, so was I... so here's better than home on that count, anyway.

"And who knows? If you and Azula both were in those pods, maybe he's in one of the ones that hasn't opened yet after all."

Oh... there goes the five he'd been aiming for shot after shot. There's silence for a long moment before Zuko finally manages to answer. "That's... sorry. That's hard." Which, yeah it is and Zuko is beating himself up over not managing to be more reassuring. "I hope you find each other again."

He lines up a shot on the one ball and, wonder of wonders, manages to sink it. His next shot goes a bit haywire, though: the actual colored ball bounces away from the pocket while the white ball goes straight into it. Zuko is left frowning at that stupidity.

"We can only hope that if someone else I know stumbles out of those pods, it's not my father or General Zhao or..." He shrugs one shoulder. "Well, there's a lot of people I'd rather not deal with." Even some of his friends might see Azula and immediately destroy half the place going after her.

"Thanks," Yunlan says, wry but honest, and leans over to pluck the cue ball out of its pocket. "You and Azula are the first two who've known each other so far. I doubt we've got great odds of old friends showing up, or old enemies...

"But it's a weight off my shoulders to know it's not impossible."

He fiddles with the placement of the cue ball, neatly sinks the eleven ball, and scowls at the spot it had landed in. Stuck in a corner, almost toppling into the pocket? Ugh.

"So is that 'General Zhao' the reason you made a face at me when I introduced myself?"

His best effort at a careful tap only left the cue ball rolling a pathetic handful of centimeters away from its spot in the corner. At least he hadn't knocked it in.

He had thought he'd done a better job of disguising his automatic flinch at the name. "Sorry," he says. "He also tried to kill me." Yeah, he's aware of how many people have tried (and failed so far) to actually murder him. It's been a problem for at least half of his life.

Zuko misses his next shot, but comes perilously close to accidentally sinking the eight ball in the process.

"Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. Sounds like you might not mind being stuck here instead, hm?"

Yunlan eyes the table-- he's got three balls left, there's no way he can get at two of them right now, and the eight ball is still dangerously close to the edge of the pocket he'd have the best chance to sink the other one into.

Carefully, he lines up the shot; if he gets it right, it should knock the eight ball clear in the process of sinking the ten.

Instead, the ten drops into the pocket, the eight ball goes into a spin, and a second later it clatters atop the ten.

"Well," he says, and tosses his cue on the table. "It looks like the game's yours, Zuko!"

Zuko sets the cue down and decides to pretend that he won out of some modicum of skill. (Honestly, he knows that he didn't do too badly; it helps that there's some expectation to slow down and think about the angles and the way the balls roll and hit... and he's probably going to be playing this game a lot in the future.)

"I wasn't even really the crown prince when he tried, much less the Fire Lord." Zuko shrugged, leaned against the table. "I think he just hated me."

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I saw the announcement but I also really have been enjoying this thread

I am too! I'd very much like to continue the thread.

good, good

Re: good, good

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