nolandmod: (Default)
nolandmod ([personal profile] nolandmod) wrote in [community profile] nolandspam2020-04-04 04:35 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME 1

NOTES:

IF BOTH CHARACTERS APP IN AND AGREE, THREADS USING PROMPT 1 CAN BE COUNTED AS GAME CANON.
PLEASE READ THE FAQ TO DECIDE YOUR ORGANIC FORM BEFORE POSTING!

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:






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. Like non-moldy bedding or fewer skeletons and less blood on the walls. 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?

At the moment, the entire vault is run only on emergency generators, creating dull, flickering light throughout the underground base. None of the computers are working yet, and what appear to be three robots are powered-down in various corners of the vault. There's only you and the people that woke up with you now.

Despite this, there's some hope. There's 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 skeletons laying around. Further, on exploring the kitchen there's even some food! It's all pre-apocalypse, hyper preserved canned goods and sugary cereals that somehow haven't gone bad yet, but it's something.

Those willing to explore a little more will find they are not alone in the vault. In the shadows created by the flickering lights or outside of the range of the light of your pip-boy, there is skittering. The noise isn't noticeable when there are groups of people, but get down to three or two and it's impossible to ignore. If you don't run away, you'll eventually come across groups of foot long radroaches, gigantic cockroaches that are ready for some fresh food for once. And it looks like you're on the menu. Hopefully you've got one of those pool cues or found a wrench or some other weapon, because it's gonna take more than a stomp to take these guys out.

PROMPT 3: A DAY OF REST



It's been a few days since everyone got out of the pods and started settling in. Louis, the 'Mr. Handy' robot in charge of cooking, can power up for whole hours at a time now. While he's recharging again now, he did make quite a feast beforehand. A whole cake, some tasty cola, and even grilled meat (if you helped kill the radroaches, you know where that meat came from). He even found some old party decorations that, once upon a time, were supposed to be used when the vault was unsealed and everyone allowed to leave. Everyone waking up is close enough, the robot had claimed, and hung the streamers and balloons throughout the rec area. There are even party hats, for the particularly festive.

The party lasts a good hour before the price for relaxing is paid: the emergency power flickers once, twice, then shuts down. Worse, the constant hum of the air vents you hadn't even really notice until now stops, leaving the vault in total silence and darkness. Only the pod room has any energy left, and all of that must be used to keep those still in stasis alive.

Repairs are going to have to be made.

((OOC: feel free to make assumptions and go wild with repairing the reactor or the emergency power supply. It's a TDM, mod approval not needed for anything)).

PIP-BOY CHATTER



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

torsion: (Default)

jill valentine | resident evil

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-09 10:31 pm (UTC)(link)
01: ARRIVAL.
[ The text that flashes does nothing for her. It's familiar and cloying to Jill, like gloved hands over her throat, applying just enough pressure that she can feel it. A phantom that isn't long-dead or forgotten, it digs in and shreds her dignity.

It isn't the same. She doesn't choke and sputter as it opens, doesn't fall onto bruised hands and knees; the metal grating beneath her surely uncomfortable if she wasn't so distracted by the feeling of simply breathing. It strikes an axe to her heart and makes her feel ill, but the hollowness doesn't bring anything up. Jill stumbles and finds her way around, used to her mind working quick in situations like this. Her personal belongings? Bullshit. From one damn bodysuit to the next, she's at least not in the one she was outfitted with before now.

None of this makes sense. It's flowing like water, like time, like nothing matters. She'd been hit hard by the rocket launcher blast, barely shut her eyes and come here. Is she in some hospital bed somewhere? Seems likely enough.

She's out before she even catches anyone waking up, too fast on her feet to stick around in one place for long. The first person she catches, however, she'll approach with seemingly no caution, holding it all in and replacing it with friendliness for the moment. Not entirely false, but careful and planned enough to be withholding. Jill raises an arm and approaches.
]

Hey. [ Her pace is swift, parting the distance with ease. ] You know what's going on, here?

02: SETTLING IN.
[ She doesn't find herself placated by any sort of company and is quick to seek out medical after all that has happened. While navigating through the Pip-Boy isn't ideal, she's used to topographical maps and finding her way through maze-like locations. In fact, it's almost a cake-walk comparatively. Her specialty isn't blood spatter pattern analysis, but she knows something that comes from a body naturally -- even in surgery -- and what doesn't. Some of it reminds her of rooms she'd seen after Hunters were let loose, thick claws raking through skin and muscle and rending asunder, leaving a crimson wave in its wake. It doesn't feel right.

Still, she's in a lot more pain than she's willing to admit even with the virus of hers and the last vestiges of the P30 still running through her veins. Her head is throbbing and she feels like she could fall just as she did in the Monarch Room even though she appears as solid as ever.

Without any gloves on, she's more cautious in touch; the virus will do its part in protecting her, she's sure, but it would be foolish not to take care of herself now. The fluorescent lights hum dimly -- working well enough, so perhaps the culprits weren't too far gone even if it seems to be running on the power of generators -- and they, too, remind her of things she wants to bury. Anything leftover, used or otherwise, she cannot identify. The way the syringes are built are strange and the names listed on the medication bottles are short, simple, and unfamiliar. Jill tries to make sense of a medical chart, but it's missing any information that might be worthwhile. Instead, she goes to the drawers, tugging on one that seems to be rusted shut. She gives it a few sharp and focused tugs, enough that it comes off track and she just barely manages to hold onto it and make sure that its contents don't spill.
]

Goddamn this place.

03: SETTLING IN (WILD CARD).
[ Jill isn't particularly thrilled by the living arrangements, but it beats standing up or going back to where she started in that damn... pod or whatever it might be. Although the mattresses are stained, some with old gore and some with remnants of bodies or worse, she's quick to brush aside a littering of bones and claim a bed for herself, though uncertain how to ensure it remains her own. So, she settles against the the outside of the strange sci-fi doors and waits for someone to meander on by on their own time, canting her head and offering a hey in greeting.

Otherwise, she's found a good way to blow off some steam and is fighting radroaches. She seems to relish in it, mostly barehanded. While some others might not be able to handle it without a weapon, the way she delivers a kick, kneedrop, big elbow, or big boot is beyond compare. It utterly obliterates after she wears it down a little. Occasionally she might use anything she finds including food trays. When a group starts to skitter about, though, she's quick to go for an ally when spotted and ask them to hand her the toaster behind them.
]

04. NETWORK POST.
Hey. Anyone understand what's up with the medical supplies? Interested in learning about them if you have any info.

Otherwise, please defer to me if you need any help with the overgrown cockroaches (or anything else you might find). If you need a hand getting around them or clearing them out, I'll ensure your safety.

Thanks.

OOC/MISC.
[ Please feel free to ask for a unique starter, PM me, and ask about plurk or Discord if you want to plot or just talk! I'm especially interested in having Jill encounter ghouls or super mutants and the internal dilemma she may face and how she might have to change how she thinks and feels because they aren't the same as monsters from her own world. ]
Edited 2020-04-10 02:11 (UTC)
dewitts: (nine)

01

[personal profile] dewitts 2020-04-11 01:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ Elizabeth doesn't remember everything that she once knew, and she once knew everything (every door, every possible path, how they all wound up the same). Constants and variables. When she chose to return to that point in rapture, she gave up her omniscience and croissants for death and mildew as Rosalind Lutece so succinctly put it. Her mind must have blocked out so much of it to save her from the price of knowing too much when she's so normal for the first time in her life since she was a baby.

The croissants were fake anyway.

She remembers dying with the knowledge that she had saved Sally and more of the Little Sisters. It was too late for her but not for them.

She died, and while she can't remember every door, she knew the basics, and vaults weren't a part of any of them. Elizabeth thought it was over so waking up in this strange pod, it's disorienting. She is on her feet, staring at the contraption she came out of when she is approached. ]


...no. No idea. [ There's a level of amazement to her voice. She got used to knowing or to having flashes of knowing, but this? This is new. Some of that old buried curiosity digging itself up from the dirt. ] The video was a cheery advertisement. Not exactly informative.
torsion: (pic#13857509)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-11 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
[ Time and ideas and hopes and dreams... they're all the sort of mixed possibilities that are ill-defined. And this way of waking up certainly doesn't allow for the sort of breather that might offer answers. Panic or uncertainty is easy to set in, at least enough that Jill hesitates and wipes at her face. Beneath the eye, like the faint little wrinkles beneath them might dissipate if she were to push against them. That they're not real, not showing the age she's at (a robust and energetic thirty-four) so long as she can cover them for a brief moment and put pressure to the skin, push the away.

But she's older than she'd like to be and she would always be that. Time would never stop running. She should accept it and part of her did, but it made her feel vulnerable in a way. Lighter.

So her hand seeks out her hip, settling it on there but not with expectancy or judgement.
]

Seems like the same boat, unfortunately. [ Jill is more cemented, aware of her surroundings. Like she's already explored even though she hasn't. It's a mixed-up feeling, but not one she's ready to discard. ] At least it sounds like we've seen the same thing, in that case. Not ideal, of course...

[ But she holds out a hand. ]

Jill Valentine. I won't say being lost like this is my specialty, but I've been in similar situations. I might not have any weapons, but I'm strong. If you're worried about the outside, I... can protect you. Don't worry about that.
dewitts: (two)

[personal profile] dewitts 2020-04-11 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ She looks at the hand extended toward her as if she isn't sure what to do with it until she remembers. It's been some time since she met someone who didn't want to kill her. Before that, she was locked in a Tower for years. Her hand stretches out to take it, giving it a firm shake. The other woman seems like she's got a good head on her shoulders. There's no obvious panic in her. She expresses herself clearly with awareness of her surroundings like she does have experience having to think on her feet. Elizabeth can appreciate it. If she were to be lost in this strange place, it's not on her own this time (or an imaginary version of Booker), but someone who knows what to do next without knowing what lies ahead. ]

Elizabeth. It's not my first time in a... strange situation either.

[ That is one way to put it. Strange. Rapture and Colombia. What will this place hold? Splicers? Possibly. It's more likely there'll be more men like Comstock and Fontaine. They're the dangerous ones. ]

I'm not worried. [ Is it possible to feel that way anymore? She's breathing when she shouldn't be. Maybe when reason returns, she will be. Worried, fearful. She's dealing with unknowns. ] I can fight. I prefer to do it quietly or from a distance, but I can. You won't have to protect me.
torsion: (gamengiri.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-11 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ Jill understands -- at least to her own thoughts. Hesitance for a lot of reasons. Illness, pain, someone here to trick you... or, hell, maybe there is some strange greeting she's used to that's entirely different? No, she's a prisoner all the same as Jill and it would be so wrong to make assumptions and think of herself like this. Jill is more of a clasp -- meaning to take beyond the wrist, military-esque in gesture but not so cold and unfeeling that it is limited. No, it's the touch of a human despite all else. Smile tight and hard, yet honest and open at the same time; broken, but not because of the other woman. It's limited because of the situation and her own uncertainty. ]

Hey. Well... don't worry, either way. I'm strong and used to fighting. [ That much is evident beneath the skin-tight suit. Her muscles may not be blatant, but her shape is. Thick hips, thighs, and legs; built for fighting. ] I understand. I'm used to things being worse than one might expect. So don't worry and if you think you might be hit? Get behind me. I'm... I 'm capable. I won't be.

[ It's a worrisome thing to admit to what happened to her, to talk about the virus. To say she can't possibly be infected or hurt. But still, she'll shield the other woman so she won't be hurt even against her wishes, even if it means rushing ahead. It's not something she's used to, but Jill knows her own blood and her own self. And what she is capable of.

She looks faintly at the Pip-Boy, the glow obvious as they stand still.
]

I know topographical maps. Do you want to go somewhere? [ To the map, then up. Jill doesn't linger too long on it. ] I can figure it out.

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02

[personal profile] cicadashell 2020-04-18 03:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[Jiro doesn't have any medical needs to attend to; he's sort of just exploring out of boredom. Everything in here is old and will probably do more harm than good if someone actually uses the equipment. He looks over at Jill when the drawer slides open with a rusty squeal.]

Anything in there?

[Anything interesting, anyway. He's taken a couple empty syringes, which he will just to stab people with if necessary.]
torsion: (sole kick.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-18 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ If they didn't seem to all be busted or unknown, she might be able to pinpoint if something is safe to use but the empty bottles don't really offer much. Cat Eye? What is it? Omega-13 or something? Either way, she's not willing to give it a try to find out. Hopefully if she finds something usable it'll at least have an expiration date and a manufacturing date so she can have an idea of when it was produced and if it's good or not.

Best case scenario, though.

She has it spread over the length of her arm and steadied by the opposite hand before letting it go on top of the counter it came from. Jill looks over her shoulder for a minute to greet the newcomer with a nod and turns back to rifle through it.
]

Paperclips, a pencil, clipboard... [ The sound of her rifling through it is quiet, though she's looking around quickly. ] Guess it isn't useless but nothing that seems to be useful.

[ She pulls out a tiny bottle, all white, and shakes it visibly so he can see it when she turns so her back is to the counter. ]

Correcting fluid if you miswrite something. Yours if you want it. [ She chuckles more to herself before tossing it into the removed drawer. ] Jill Valentine. Fellow captive, I imagine?

[personal profile] cicadashell 2020-04-18 06:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Jiro Azuma.

[He figures it's obvious he's in the same boat as Jill and takes that as a rhetorical question. He steps forward to reach around her and find that correcting fluid in the drawer. He untwists the cap and looks at the consistency. Yeah, he's keeping this too.]

You see any cameras around here? Can cover a few of the lenses with this shit.

[They're probably being watched, even if it's not blatant. He collects the paperclips as well, because they're useful.]
torsion: (sleeper hold.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-18 07:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey, Jiro. Haven't noticed any but with the information we received while waking up I wouldn't doubt it -- and I prefer ink or marker over tape, but it'll work just as well. Just might crumble depending on temperature or lens movement.

[ Jill moves a touch to give him room rather than for the sake of caution or worry. She can handle herself just fine. ]

Was looking for medical supplies, but -- [ She reaches for the bottle of Cat Eye and holds it out to him. ] -- ever heard of anything like this? With a name like that it'd likely be a non-prescription drug where I'm from.

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houseparty: (Default)

3 - living arrangements

[personal profile] houseparty 2020-04-19 07:13 am (UTC)(link)
( Hey presents as good an opener as any, when they're all still a little shell shocked by, well. Everything here. Tony tips his chin up at her in equal acknowledgement. )

Hey. Already claiming top bunk? Can't blame you.

( Ha ha, stupid dry humor in the apocalypse. )
torsion: (sole kick.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-19 05:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ She leans slightly against the door frame, but makes room for him to see the small pile of bones. ]

Yeah, I'd hate to have my roommate, Skel E. Ton take it. [ It can't be helped to respond in the same manner, though she laughs lightly, like there's nothing at all wrong with this situation. ] I don't know. Figured I'd have a place to crash at and drop anything off, but haven't found my belongings yet. Get the feeling it cut out in that little introduction because they're gone.

[ She takes initiative to part the distance now, offering a hand along with an introduction. ]

Jill Valentine.
houseparty: (EG - >_>)

[personal profile] houseparty 2020-04-27 10:39 am (UTC)(link)
( Fuck, Dad jokes. Clearly he's with his people. )

Can't say they took your sense of humor, at least. Tony Stark. ( have a firm handshake, Jill, before he proceeds in ahead of her, toeing away more bones with the tip of his boot. Some of the mattresses on offer doesn't look salvageable at all, but sheets, maybe... )

We gotta find a place to stash these guys.
torsion: (somersault senton.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-28 09:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Perhaps. It's made a little worse by her expression, both amused and secretly tickled by her own bad joke. She's feeling a bit better than earlier, her feelings about the jumpsuit a lot less negative. Although she fills it out nicely, it's certainly not like the one she'd arrived with. It doesn't show every curve and every detail, every imperfection. Instead it's just there. ]

Lucky me. They just took my weapons. [ Playful still and not genuinely dark about it, Jill takes his hand and more clasps than shakes; a militaristic gesture. She watches his movements, but doesn't stop him. ] I'm thinking we could find a dedicated room, but who knows how quick it'd pile up? Seems they're all over. Went to the medical area and it's just as bad if not worse. Definitely confirms to me that it was an attack or prison of sorts and not just time that did it.

[ She isn't an expert in blood spatter pattern analysis, but she's aware enough. ]

Nice to meet you, Tony. Where did you come from if you don't mind me asking? I'm from midwest, United States. But I was dragged here from Kijuju, Africa.

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re_yourbrains: (Wheeeee!)

01

[personal profile] re_yourbrains 2020-04-22 11:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Who me?

[From behind one might not be able to tell anything's wrong with Rottytops, she has a full head of dark green hair after all, but once she turns around her green skin and the waxy pallor makes it very clear...she's not human.]

I dunno that video seemed to think we were gonna be down here for awhile like a family? So I call dibs on being the spunky kid sister. I've already got plenty of experience!
ikonsuit: <user name="ikonsuit"> (don't mind us.)

⸻ network

[personal profile] ikonsuit 2020-04-29 04:27 am (UTC)(link)
Defer to you? Ensure my safety?

Sounds like you're in charge around here.

If so, I have some complaints, if/when you're ready to hear them.
torsion: (sleeper hold.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-29 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
I just know I can take what's dished out.

Wish I was in charge and could fuck with the system, but I'm not. Sorry, pal.
ikonsuit: <user name="ikonsuit"> (hanging by the neck.)

[personal profile] ikonsuit 2020-04-29 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
Disappointed, not surprised.

I guess it would be too easy to have things figured out in the first week.

What are you charging for your radroach services?
torsion: (heart punch.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-04-29 05:40 am (UTC)(link)
Guess you and I are the same.

As for the radroaches, it is free. It's useful to all of us. I'd be remiss to charge something or takeaway from it. I have no weapons but my body is just fine to take care of it.

Bonus if I manage to scrounge some meat. Can't say I am thrilled by that? But it's the best everyone's got for now.

Jill Valentine. Who are you? If you don't mind me asking.

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justoutrunyou: (I've telling that joke for years)

Network

[personal profile] justoutrunyou 2020-05-07 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Why? Is there something wrong with the medicine?

[Honestly she's surprised they even have first aid kits down here.]
torsion: (sleeper hold.)

text.

[personal profile] torsion 2020-05-08 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, it isn't new. Strange names, if you've looked at em.
justoutrunyou: (looting the cupboard)

[personal profile] justoutrunyou 2020-05-08 11:01 pm (UTC)(link)
I haven't yet. What are they called?
torsion: (gamengiri.)

[personal profile] torsion 2020-05-08 11:22 pm (UTC)(link)
I've seen Cateye and Partytime Mentats.

Sounds like recreational drugs and not meds. Only thing physical I've caught or with labels. Doesn't mean there's not others. I suggest checking it out for yourself, but don't just use something to see if it works. Could be a mess.

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loveyoudarling: Icon Made By Yours Truly (Default)

Network | Voice Response

[personal profile] loveyoudarling 2020-05-08 05:10 am (UTC)(link)
Oh? Are you saying you have means to properly dispose of them? Because as of so far I haven't found many supplies to help stave them off.

Otherwise the only way to deal with them as of yet is fairly messy and quite risky.
torsion: (heart punch.)

still text.

[personal profile] torsion 2020-05-08 10:55 pm (UTC)(link)
You weren't specific, so I mean the roaches and not the meds.

You fight. Or, I do. It isn't always a cakewalk, but it's nothing I'm not used to. In fact, I welcome it and am comfortable with it. I'd rather fight than have someone discomforted by it awkwardly do so. I know what I'm doing. And if someone gave me a damn knife, I could dress it and derive the meat much more easily. Know it ain't the best tasting option, but it'll make things run more smoothly, I think.
loveyoudarling: Icon Made By Yours Truly (GET UP)

[personal profile] loveyoudarling 2020-05-10 05:37 am (UTC)(link)
I mean supplies like weapons. Not medical supplies.

I don't know about you, but most of us who woke up here have nothing but the tacky jumpsuits we woke up in. And in terms of things found throughout vault, it seems there's very little that hasn't rusted over with age.

Well, maybe a few of the kitchen supplies, but that's really it.

Or are you telling me that you're really running around senselessly punching giant cockroaches to death?

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