THE TEST DRIVE MEME: MARCH - APRIL

[checkingin]

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 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.

Comments

[lottawork]

[Oh, how fucking excellent. Not only do Rush's temporal duplicates have the annoying habit of dying, they additionally have the side effect of making a multitude of enemies.

This conversation is not sustainable in its current configuration. Rush plants one hand on the floor and torques smoothly, rising with a satisfying level of fluid self-possession.]

Are you attempting to protect me.

[It strikes him that this likely not the socially acceptable tone he should be adopting, that possibly he should be speaking with a level of gratitude or interest rather than unalloyed skepticism. He simply isn't accustomed to being met with this atypical level of - concern. Directed at him. It feels rather like a foreign concept. His arms fold.]

I fail to see how I could pose a particularly adequate threat to myself.

[carjacked]

[ Rush is right, though it hadn't really occurred to Neal to label this warning as such. Protecting his father wasn't really something he did often, not something he wanted to do often, and yet he found himself from time to time doing just that. Apparently that extended to men who looked like him as well, to his own exasperation and bewilderment.

Why he even cares is totally beyond him, why either of them even matter, but as frustrated in himself as he might be about it, he sorta has to just...

Go with it.

Man, sometimes he really hates the universe. Like, it royally sucks. ]

He's not- he's not normal. The place we come from is different, it's...

[ He really hates dropping the 'm' bomb. Like really, he's doing everything he can to cut that corner, because explaining it 5000 times to skeptical disbelievers in the last couple months really burns a guy out, and considering this one's an academic or whatever... ]

He can do stuff human beings shouldn't be able to do, let's put it that way. Nobody on normal... regular Earth can do the stuff he's capable of. He's killed people for pretending to be him, he's killed people for pretending to be me, if he sees you wearin' his face.

[ He shrugs a shoulder. ]

I don't know what he'll do. Not anymore.

[lottawork]

[His expression darkens, closing into itself. 'Not normal.' Isn't that quite the revealing statement. He doesn't demand to know whether 'not normal' equates to the ability to compensate for overwhelmingly disordered thought. That is more or less, he has found, the natural order.

It doesn't matter.

And Rush doesn't care.]

Sounds like quite the family life.

[Not unsettled, not unnerved - simply abnormally if drolly attentive to someone who ordinarily wouldn't be deemed worth the time and effort.]

Is he not familiar with the concept of diverging universes, then?