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checking in? ([personal profile] checkingin) wrote in [community profile] checkyourself2015-03-19 02:43 am

THE TEST DRIVE MEME: MARCH - APRIL

THE TEST DRIVE MEME



SO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE CREEPY HOTEL BRIGADE.
Well, welcome potential apper! Here we have the handy dandy test drive meme so you can get a feel for how your character might react to the game setting. This post can also be used to cultivate some of those required sample threads for the application.

Feel free to play any scenario you so please. However please note that TDM threads cannot be used for Activity Checks (for existing players) and will not be considered game canon unless transposed comment for comment into logs in [community profile] checkingout. We also recommend avoiding playing the initial arrival, so that the intro log doesn't become repetitive and boring for you. Other than that, go wild.

Here's a few additional useful links:

PREMISE | THE HOTEL
TAKEN | RESERVES | APPLICATION


BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS.
No time for losers, because we — have waffles and pancakes and crepes and delicate bowls of ripe bananas and juicy oranges. We have bacon and oatmeal and cereal and milk; we have coffee (that's really hot and will burn you quite spectacularly) and tea (that, on the other hand, is miserably cold and bland). And we have orange juice (that might just kill you)!

Basically, every component one needs to start the day off right. Which is good, because this is the only meal ever served in the hotel. So come one, come all — get it while it's hot and try to pick among seats amidst the crowded circular tables, or stand along the wall. Bemoan the lack of hashbrowns or fight over the last fork. Mix, mingle. Have "fun".


DON'T YOU LOVE MY TASTE IN MUSIC.
What starts as soft, subtle musical notes wafting out of unseen speakers?

Yeah, that quickly manifests into blaring, loud, aggressively high pitched notes — so distorted, and reverberating so magnificently in the main lobby that even those impenetrable windows rattle in their frames.


And what's more, there doesn't seem to be an off switch anywhere in sight. Good luck finding one.


GOING DOWN.
Right by the stairwell in the lobby is an old timey elevator, the sort that really ought to be manned by staff to insure that it's in decent working condition and won't kill you. But it's usually not. And usually doesn't run.

But today, your ears are treated to an oh-so pleasant ding, and the doors will slide open, offering a ride to the floor of your choosing. Finally, no more calf workouts on the stairs, right?

...well, you probably should have taken the stairs, because three seconds in the entire carriage shudders, screeches to a halt, and refuses to move.

Then the lights begin to flicker.


CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE.
Don't see a scenario that appeals to you here? Make up your own. Get crazy with it! Good luck getting outside.
nebarimisfit: (Default)

Chiana // Farscape (Reserved) - OTA

[personal profile] nebarimisfit 2015-03-25 09:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[Chiana was used to weird. Chiana was even rather (sadly) accustomed to waking up in strange places, without recalling just how it was she'd ended up there.

She was not used to waking up in places with tech that was old enough to have belonged to the first comers. However, if there was one thing the Nebari did know, it was how to use that tech to her advantage. She'd hidden from Moya when she'd first arrived on the space going Leviathan. The sensors and crew had been at her mercy as she navigated the systems both mechanically and physically, using every ounce of her street and learned smarts to keep from being located. She used those smarts now, and the conveniently provided computer tablet, to learn about the place she'd woken up.

There were others here, taken without warning or explanation... She read what she could about each of them; their exchanges with one another. She searched for familiar names or faces, finding none she knew with a growing sense of dread and sickness low in her belly.

She was alone here.

She keeps herself from panicking by reading through everything she can, learning about the place she's been brought. She'd heard Crichton mention hotels before, but in space there wasn't anything like this place. Certainly, there were places like hotels, but this was something like Crichton's Earth and not her own Nebari Prime.

She'd noticed the bag with her name on it, the script carefully labeled in an unfamiliar hand, but she chose to ignore it for the time being. She unfolded from her bed, hand falling to the empty pulse pistol hostler at her hip. From there her hand rose to the metal collar still secured around her neck, lip curling in a mixture of panic and anger.]


Fekkik. [The curse was soft in her lilting tone and as she dropped her hand from the collar, she turned her black gaze to the door of her room. Her stride was loose at the knee, but there was no question that she moved very much like a caged predator. She opened the door and slipped out into the hall, tablet secured in one of her pockets. Knowing it's rather pointless, she tries her wrist communicator all the same.]

Crichton...? D'Argo... Zhaan? Aeryn..? Pilot?? Does anyone copy?