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thirstology2018-04-01 12:05 am
futurologists) wrote in thirstology2018-04-01 12:05 am
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TEST DRIVE MEME
FANTASTIC MR. FOX  Welcome to Azeria, a small single-biome planet covered almost entirely by deep, mossy forests. The natives of Azeria, a sapient foxlike species called Vulphytes, have reached out to Hathaway for help in repelling a planetary invasion. Other Vulphyte tribes have sent word of dangerous aliens descending in silver machines and laying waste to the forest, killing and capturing Vulphytes and animals in their wake. Hathaway analysts have calculated that the Merging is to blame for this sudden invasion; before, these two nearly identical universes didn't see each other, but now that they are one, these strangers are suddenly planetary neighbors. The aliens, seeing a new planet, must be searching for colonization prospects, while the Vulphytes are helpless against their spacefaring weaponry. ▸ FOR NEW VOLUNTEERS.On greeting the Hathaway agents, the Vulphytes will initially be very awkward and surprised, or as awkward and surprised as sapient foxes can appear. The Vulphytes speak telepathically, and eventually a spokesfox explains the cause of their discomfort: the invading aliens are humans, just like most of you. ▸ PROMPTS Your mission is simple: protect the Vulphytes, forests, and native animals from the invading humans. It's not necessary to kill all the invaders (unless you want to), simply keep them from taking the planet for their own and do a good enough job to persuade them never to come back. Of course, the invaders are a bit... forceful in their methods, so it's up to you.   The Vulphytes live in a cluster of burrows which are unfortunately not large enough for anything human-sized to visit, but the presence of non-aggressive aliens (that's you!) is enough to get the majority of them to pop out and curiously observe. The Vulphytes are variably black, grey, or red, with fur transitioning to moss along their backs; animals you might see in the forest, including deer, rabbits, and owls, have a similarly moss-covered look. The Vulphytes will take awhile to warm up to anyone who is human (or those who visibly look human), their telepathic tones suspicious as they ask questions about their loyalties, where they're from, and what their homeworlds are like. Those who are clearly not human will receive a much warmer reception, the Vulphytes asking curious questions and the Vulphyte kits trailing behind in fuzzy little rows. When the invaders' silver machines -- spaceships -- become visible in the sky, through breaks in the tree canopy, the Vulphytes look skyward and begin to howl. It's a pre-battle ritual, one of them explains, and characters are invited to join in: howl to the sky, to your enemies, and get ready to fight. TWO ▸ THE INVASION. The silver spaceships of the invaders crash down through the trees, sending animals fleeing in all directions. The Vulphytes stay put, snarling in the direction of the noise and waiting for the invaders to come to them. If you'd like, you can rush forward and head them off -- or stay and fight alongside the foxes. Just as the Vulphytes claimed, the invaders are human. They are dressed in armored space suits, the visors on their helmets obscuring their faces and reflecting the forest all around. Their weapons are various types of laser guns, though a few are holding axes that have laser blades, which they use to start chopping down trees as their compatriots march toward the Vulphyte dens. The invaders are surprised to see people here, but they're not interested in talking: they open fire on anyone they see, not recognizing any of the recruits as their people and thus pegging them immediately as enemies. Though they're aggressive, they're not suicidal; if a single invader encounters too much violence or are outnumbered, they'll run back to their compatriots for reinforcements, so it's best to dispatch them quickly (or prevent them for running for help in some other way). Once the invaders reach the Vulphyte dens, the foxes fight viciously, swarming individuals in a flurry of claws and snarling teeth. Kill the invaders or simply give them enough trouble to make them retreat for good, it's up to you. But either way, look after your furry/mossy hosts; despite their telepathic way of communication, the Vulphytes don't possess any magical abilities, so they'll need to be looked after in the face of laser weapons. THREE ▸ BABYSITTER'S CLUB. The baby Vulphytes are in the greatest amount of danger from the invading humans, being entirely unable to defend themselves and uncertain of what's actually going on. Hathaway has been tasked with rescuing them from their dens and whisking them away to safer areas away from the fighting where they can be cared for until the fighting is over. The only problem is that baby Vulphytes are... well, babies. They're quite upset by all the ruckus, yowling in a way that resembles crying, and aren't exactly happy to be taken away by strangers they don't know. In fact, some of them might try to make a great escape, so you'd better be quick! Those who make it to a safe area will need consoling and, once that's done, entertainment. They'll also need their caretakers to make sure no invaders sneak up on them -- since some are hidden in the woods. It's a big job, but you can handle it, right? FOUR ▸ VICTORY CELEBRATIONS. Once the invaders are finally chased off, everyone gathers together to celebrate. The Vulphytes bow (as well as a fox can) as the team enters and apologize for their uncertainty before; they see now that many of you are nothing like the aliens who threatened them, despite your similar looks. They'd like you all to stay and celebrate, if you have time. The celebrations are... a bit different than most might be used to; it's definitely not a human party. There are games with handmade balls of packed moss, which the Vulphytes seem to love. In fact, they go crazy for Fetch, a game they were never introduced to before due to their tragic lack of opposable thumbs. They "sing" for the team in howls, a rare example of adults not communicating telepathically. As for the team, they receive a congratulatory message from Imogen on their magitek suggesting they take the rest of the celebration to meet and greet with the unfamiliar faces. There won't be much time to do so back at Headquarters, I'm afraid, she adds. Drakstaden awaits, darlings! FIVE ▸ CHIT-CHAT. It's your standard network option. Make battle plans, chat about how cute the foxes are, or share good hiding places. No matter what, you get one username to identify you and one only -- if you don't enter one, it will default to your real name (for example, Voldemort's would be tomriddle.) Choose wisely... or make it assfarts69, if that's your thing. More information on the jewelcomms can be found on the devices guide. SIX ▸ WILDCARD. Do whatever the heck you want! Go pick wildflowers. Climb a tree. Hunt animals. Loot innocent fox dens, you monster. The world is your oyster. ▸ OOC NOTES Welcome to the second test drive meme of Futurology Season 2! This test drive will function as an optional mini-mission for both new and current characters, similar in feel to the missions we have in-game but on a much smaller scale. Threads on this test drive are game canon by default unless one of the participants would like to retcon it. Current characters may use TDM threads for non-!plot AC proofs. Both test drivers and current characters are welcome to top level! While current characters are allowed to tag other current characters, we ask that you please make an effort to be welcoming to test drivers as well! Since incoming characters currently don't have official specializations, we have no specialized prompts. However, feel free to play as if your character is level 1 of whichever specialization you would like to choose. Questions about the game in general can be directed to the FAQ. If you've been with us before, you might notice things look a little different around here. Make sure you check out the welcome page for the basic rundown of how your character joined up with Hathaway. For further information about the game, the full navigation has all the links you'll need. ▸ Upcoming Events (Futurology runs on timezone UTC): |
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At least... not until the rumble of noise from the celebration becomes muted. Until she is certain they are alone. Only then does she stare down at him and realize that though she’d hoped the walk would give her time to collect her thoughts and think of the right words to use... they haven’t.
She almost reaches for his hands again. Curls her fingers over air when she is reminded that the ring isn’t on her left hand anymore.]
You cannot just-
[Kiss her like that? No- If it had been his quarters or hers, even a moment of solitude, she would have found a shameful pleasure in it. (Had, even this time.). So-]
Where did you go?
[And why without a word? Why had he returned?
She has too many questions yet to voice.]
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I was summoned by Hathaway; taken without the chance to say where or even to leave a message. [He doesn't sound pleased about it.]
It was not my choice, or I'd have found some way of letting you and the others know that I was gone.
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It’s not like she finds it hard to believe. Though they were different in a sense from ALASTAIR, claimed to be committed to different cause and housed themselves in different places in different uniforms... her trust in them and her opinion of their organization was no better than what she had thought of the predessecor. They had promised her more. But taking a man with no warning or word- it is surely not beyond them.
It had listed him as “transferred”. To another team, so she imagines another mission, another world. Even when she’d wanted to resent him for leaving that way, after he had smiled at her and said we'll neither of us be alone so long as the other is here...]
I mourned you.
[She had been foolish to believe such things, and that was her own fault. But- he was not of her world. To leave... was to her, akin to death. To never meet again or hear word or see sign. And so to return... was like some sort of miracle. A resurrection in her eyes.
Even though she feels the burning lack of enchanted ring on her finger she struggles to reach out, to not let the tears of foolish, simpering relief spill from the corners of her eyes, finally managing to touch his fingers, to pull a hand into the fold of her own, curling downward over it.]
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Odinson has had lovers before. Some he parted from amicably, some not, some he knew for decades, others just a single night. Some are dead now; actually many are, if he thinks of it. Mortals who've passed over into some kind of mystery. Passed over like he never will. He will go to Valhalla to feast, or he will go to Hel to suffer, and in time... return. Mortals always find they have need of him, and so he returns.
Leaving had been hard, it had pained him to think of leaving her alone here, but it had not been impossible. It had almost been harder to leave Loki, knowing that his brother would use it as a weapon against himself.
He had not thought of how hard it would be for her to be left. Silence fills the clearing as she takes his hand in hers. His face is somber, thoughtful. Things here were not easy for her, he knew. Things were too different from the world she knew. ]
Thank you. [He wishes he knew what else to say. He puts his other hand on hers, bowing his head.]
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[Though it is difficult for her, though she feels as if she forces the words past needles and coals, Hayame knows that if she does not speak now that she never will. It is too easy for her to fall back upon the ways of her world and all she had ever known, all she had ever been allowed to be. Silent. Subservient.]
You must forgive me.
[Admitting to weakness, let alone showing it... admitting to caring for another... it is foreign yet, and difficult, riddled with shame she’d only barely managed to shed when they were alone. But she understands honor, and respect, and if-]
Though I knew our worlds different beyond counting... I did not realize the disrespect it was to you, that I be-
[What’s the word? Her fingernails dig anxiously into his skin, body right with discomfort at weakness.]
... Reserved.
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He extracts one hand from her grip, places it against her face.]
Who made such a claim? You've told me of how matters are in your land, of the expectations on women and jinba. Hayame- I expect nothing of you than you'll give willingly. [It's hard to hold in his frustration I did not realise- someone must have suggested it to her, put this onus on her that he'd never had set himself.]
I offer you no forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive.
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But she shakes her head against his hand, biting into her lip. It sounds accusatory to her to name his brother as the source of such thoughts. It was not her place to stand between them, and she already regretted approaching him in the first place. Let him think it was simply something she had come to think, if possible, seeing how openly other members of Hathaway cavorted and spoke.]
Yet I cannot take two legs much longer, even if you have returned-
[So even if he did forgive her... despite the nature of their first conversation, Hayame still cannot yet truly picture such a thing. Someone shaped as a human was, and a jinba. Not as equals. It would end, and they would...
She isn’t sure.]
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Two legs aren't needed for this- [It's a gentler kiss this time, more bringing his face to hers and sharing a breath, sharing the space. He hopes it's more comforting now, away from prying eyes.]/
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Away from the eyes of other Hathaway members it is far easier for Hayame to show what to her is vulnerability, a weakness that could be exploited. He knows what to say, and though he had told her before that he was not gifted with words, he seems so much more skilled when she compares it to her own competency. It’s easier to let the worries die, even if only temporarily, in favor of the mix comfort and relief, of kissing him back, pressing her forehead to his own and letting out a shuddering breath.
Breathe.
All things ended. He was a god, she was all too mortal, and she had always known that this was... whatever it was, it could simply be a fleeting thing, gone before she knew it by death or transfer or even change of affections, like the poems her master had always loved about the ephemeral. But until then-]
Know that I am glad you are back.
[She needed to say it, before she lost the courage. That she viewed him as important. That she... cared, even if she found public displays of such to be yet shameful. Tried to prevent the pent up energy and emotions from manifesting in restless hooves and too-shallow breath as she anxiously twined her fingers with his... and guided them to her hips, just beneath the deerskin belted about her waist.
Or, what would be her hips if she had two legs, and not dun-colored equine shoulders.]
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[Back with Hathaway and his brother and this wonderful, stubborn, strong woman.
He's surprised when his hand is drawn to her hips and-- does not find the hips he expects, but the surprise passes in a heartbeat. What stills his fingers is caution- she does not suffer touch lightly, and while he might tease or press in other areas, here is one place he feels uncertain about treading.
It's with gentle, hesitant fingers that he smoothes her hide.] Hayame-
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And she had borne all of that with dignity, with poise and elegance in order to please her master, to make sure it was known that she was fit, just as strong as any stallion, as obedient as one would want any warrior to be-
Yet this is somehow more terrifying, and it shows despite her best efforts, swallowing thickly in something like fear as she watches his face.]
If it is displeasing, you need only say-
[It’s not like she could blame him. Not like she’d ever imagined allowing it, inviting it, ever being involved in something like this at all.]
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When his partners tremble in his arms, he hopes it is not from fear.]
Those are words I should be speaking. [But he doesn't remove his hand, she hasn't asked him to.] It is not my pleasure I seek.
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Yet he offers it so easily that it shames her, and her eyes dart away briefly before she forces it back. As he offers, so she desires to return. Even if it was difficult. After all- it was all more apparent now, the reality of their circumstance. That one might be here one day and gone the next. If she does not now... she will taste regret again. And it had been too bitter a pill already.]
It is not-
[So she does try to explain. Tries not to, but her hocks still tremble slightly in wrongness, her hide twitches beneath the slight pressure of his fingers even as her own curl over his hand. Press. Force herself to confront what she has invited.]
It is not done... not like this. [As equals. As two willing.] But I-
[What? The things she needs to say become jumbled in her head despite best efforts, plowing forward even if it is not quite the right direction for fear she will run from it otherwise.]
Even if it is not... not possible, I will still fight by your side. You shall still have my regard.
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It's been a while since he felt this dissatisfaction with himself- his mission with Hathaway has been a fine distraction for him -but the feeling stirs in him again.
Now is not the time, he tells himself. There's no room here for two to air their failings.]
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[Perhaps because he was from a world the likes of which he had told her tale, that many species were to him the norm... she does not know the cause, perhaps, but she has never felt from him the surprise or confusion she receives from others with two legs. The feelings of difference. At least, not for body.
And that has been more important to her than she’d known- until he had gone. So for her to deny him acceptance-
Cautiously, carefully, she shifts her weight from one hoof to the other, trying to memorize the way it felt to have a human hand upon her hide that was not a master, not a buyer, not a fellow jinba, finally releasing him to move as he’d like, her own arms finding some fleeting purchase around his neck, fingers passing briefly over his hair (still shorn so short).]
If- If you desire to lay hands when we are not alone... you may touch my shoulder, [the lower set] my hip... or lean against my flank.
[That was... generous enough, perhaps? Was it not?]
... but should you kiss me like that again, I will be less gentle with my strike.
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I would say that... that is a very unwise choice when I have hooves.
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[He's still teasing, assuming she knows he's past the stage of his life where commitment was a foreign word to him.]
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[And she can’t even really just blame him, when she’d been the fool who almost tackled him to the ground in the first place- ! The irony of that does not escape her, the words mumbled under her breath.]
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[For a moment he stills, neither pressing closer nor pulling further away; simply enjoying the moment.] Speaking of which- shall we return?
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[As much as she selfishly wishes to remain there with him, relishing no matter how shameful in something she had despaired to ever feel again... taking in something terrifyingly new... Hayame nods somewhat reluctantly. Now wasn’t the time, and with as shockingly curious some of their team could be... maybe a longer absence would imply something salacious.]
I am sure you have other greetings to make. I will return to my tasks.
[Guarding the perimeter, despite their apparent success at the mission- but it gave her purpose. And besides... she pulls from him with a last lingering touch before beginning to somewhat fussily straighten her clothing.]
I will... seek you after.
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[He lends his held to straightening her clothing, a little unhelpfully and obviously just an excuse to keep touching her.]
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Not nearly as grumpy about it as she appears, Hayame slaps at his hands as she goes back to restraighten the deer hide about her waist, trying to will her cheeks any color but red before she goes back into public.]
How you survived this long without losing your fingers I shall never know-
[well, all of his fingers!]
Go, you scoundrel, before I change my mind.
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Thank the Norns I've you to protect the ones I have left. [And he steps well away, enough that there's a respectable space between them.
(It won't be until much, much later that he realises this is the first time he's thought of his metal arm with laughter instead of a scowl.)]
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[without his “help” she finally gets herself in order- at least, she finishes buying time for her blush to die down somewhat, only then shooing him off for her to pick her way behind, and peel away perhaps before they return to the food and jovial sound of celebration.
The perimeter wouldn’t watch itself, and until their imminent return to Headquarters, something she dreaded now less than she had not a half hour past... there were certain things she could not bring herself to do without certain assurances of privacy.
(And certain realizations she may take some time to make, if she ever did... that she had never once before now called herself a woman as anything but a curse.)]