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rapturefree2015-09-15 09:36 pm
rapturemod) wrote in rapturefree2015-09-15 09:36 pm
Entry tags:
baby you can drive my car
It's anticipated. It's expected. We're all about expectations, aren't we? Sort of? Maybe? Regardless, it's the first official
You probably know the drill by now. If you don't, here's a quick rundown: test drive memes are a game's way of gauging interest and such. It's a way to play around in the environment without the commitment of apping, maybe see how well that character you're considering gels with the setting. This one will be open indefinitely, or at least until further notice. You don't need to be apped to the game to test drive a character, or even reserved, or even want to reserve. However, if your interest is indeed piqued, reserves are thisaway, applications thataway.
As of this writing, we don't consider anything that happens in the TDM canon unless you'd like to transfer any threads that happen here to the main comms (provided they don't interfere with pre-established game events, of course). TDM threads are just a way to get a feel for a game, or in case you need that pesky writing sample for an app in progress. We don't recommend you do a standard intro post, however - save that for the game proper!
We don't have a set entry date for the game proper just yet. Once we accumulate some interest, we'll be sure to let you know!
Some resources we recommend that you check out if interest continues to abound:
PROMPTS:
TEST DRIVE MEME
As of this writing, we don't consider anything that happens in the TDM canon unless you'd like to transfer any threads that happen here to the main comms (provided they don't interfere with pre-established game events, of course). TDM threads are just a way to get a feel for a game, or in case you need that pesky writing sample for an app in progress. We don't recommend you do a standard intro post, however - save that for the game proper!
We don't have a set entry date for the game proper just yet. Once we accumulate some interest, we'll be sure to let you know!
Some resources we recommend that you check out if interest continues to abound:
PROMPTS:
i. do you hear the people sing?
You've heard the rumors circulating about Atlas and his bandits for months. Even the upper echelons of Rapture's high society were having trouble burying their concern under the careful veneer of professionalism. What you didn't expect was an open attack. You'd just been passing by, but the poor souls who lived and shopped and made their living on this street have just found their entire livelihood set aflame. People are saying it's a bombing, while others protest that it must have been something down in maintenance.
Right now, it doesn't really matter one way or the other. The homes and storefronts have been reduced to sheeting flame as hairline cracks go cobwebbing up the glass, the only thing separating the city from a watery grave. Whether you choose to get the hell out of dodge or help the wailing survivors is up to you, but regardless of what you choose to do, this section of Rapture is rapidly coming apart at the seams.
You've heard the rumors circulating about Atlas and his bandits for months. Even the upper echelons of Rapture's high society were having trouble burying their concern under the careful veneer of professionalism. What you didn't expect was an open attack. You'd just been passing by, but the poor souls who lived and shopped and made their living on this street have just found their entire livelihood set aflame. People are saying it's a bombing, while others protest that it must have been something down in maintenance.
Right now, it doesn't really matter one way or the other. The homes and storefronts have been reduced to sheeting flame as hairline cracks go cobwebbing up the glass, the only thing separating the city from a watery grave. Whether you choose to get the hell out of dodge or help the wailing survivors is up to you, but regardless of what you choose to do, this section of Rapture is rapidly coming apart at the seams.
ii. who's your daddy?
You've no clue whose bright idea it was to tail the Little Sister. It might have been some gang of spliced-up nobodies thirsty for some extra ADAM. It might have been your best friend's idiot plan. Hell, it might have even been yours. All you know is that no matter how appealing the thought seemed at the time, you and yours are in for a world of hurt. The Little Sister just had to shriek once and her armored protector came barreling into the scene, drill humming to life with a sinister whine. Guilty as charged or caught in the crossfire, you're in for the fight of your life with a Big Daddy, one of the most dangerous things in Rapture. Good luck.
You've no clue whose bright idea it was to tail the Little Sister. It might have been some gang of spliced-up nobodies thirsty for some extra ADAM. It might have been your best friend's idiot plan. Hell, it might have even been yours. All you know is that no matter how appealing the thought seemed at the time, you and yours are in for a world of hurt. The Little Sister just had to shriek once and her armored protector came barreling into the scene, drill humming to life with a sinister whine. Guilty as charged or caught in the crossfire, you're in for the fight of your life with a Big Daddy, one of the most dangerous things in Rapture. Good luck.
iii. a part of the masterpiece
Fort Frolic, they say, is the hub for creative artistry. Sander Cohen is either a wildly inspired artistic genius or a madman depending on who you ask, but the alcohol runs the same no matter how you slice it. For tonight, the Fort is yours to enjoy at your leisure. Take a gander, gamble everything you've got, have a drink, maybe sit in for a show. The only thing Cohen loves more than his exclusivity is rampant attention, and tonight he's on full display. He's even torturing - er, entertaining a lucky pair of dancers in Fleet Hall! Don't mind the wires threaded in and out of their clothing, doubtless unspooled over all those important parts of the nervous system and ready to unleash a burst of fatal electricity at a moment's notice. They've got to be just for show.
One thing is certain about the possibly-deranged Sander Cohen, after all: he certainly keeps you on your toes!
One thing is certain about the possibly-deranged Sander Cohen, after all: he certainly keeps you on your toes!
iv. wild card! make up your own scenario
We prefer third-person, present tense prose, but if you're just in it for the fun you can write in whatever floats your pontoon. Have fun!
no subject
The rising clamor of screams, flames, tumbled rubble, does not muffle the high, shrill whisper of glass cracking cleanly, hairline fractures blossoming over the clear surface.
He runs fingertips over the contours of the glass. The interior surface is smooth, devoid of the ridges that would indicate a complete breach, the cracking of the planar surface that would usher in an inescapable surge of seawater.
Rush breathes out, long and slow.
He does not like the water.
"Wouldn't happen to have anything useful, would you," Rush drawls in a tone that very much implies an expectation of a negative answer.
no subject
She's beginning not to like water much, herself, frankly. "Not this kind of useful." What does she look like? A Black Thumb? "What makes you think you can fix all this?" Because, seriously. Look at this, and look at you.
no subject
The bulkheads are swarmed with an uncontrolled surge of civilians, injured and destitute and screaming to be let out before the weight of the water proves to be entirely too much for the groaning support structure and floods the section of the city with a deluge of seawater. He tsks quietly between his teeth as he traces the fine latticework of cracks sprawling over the glass. The structural work here is shoddy at best, present time period notwithstanding. Vitreous materials are seldom wise when attempting to construct an architecturally sound structure at the bottom of the North Atlantic.
"You're free to risk joining the rest, if you like." He thrusts a hand to gesticulate vaguely at the seething throng heaping around the bulkheads.
no subject
At first she things the roaring crowd is water--the way their footfalls and voices ricochet around the space seems to froth like a giant wave of sound, like the water Immortan Joe sometimes--only sometimes--let fall from the Citadel's heights.
"Not much of a joiner," she says, after a glance at the running mob. "Have a feeling if there was someplace safe to run to, you'd've lit out for there before now." She could be wrong, but self preservation is a universal trait.
no subject
That's fair fucking disappointing.
"Apologies," says Rush in a tone that implies the utter lack of any such thing, "I wasn't aware you've been psychoanalyzing my every action."
He stands swiftly and begins moving away.
"In any case, I concede your suggestion may be more reasonably applicable." He eyes the groaning structure warily. "The damage is spreading faster than that which any one person can fix independently."
He has little to gain from rescuing a lonely section of a city whose entire existence is well beyond his range of giving a fuck.
no subject
But this water, and the ominous sense of weight--so unlike the stone of the Citadel, which was threatening in its own way.
When he stands, so abruptly, she can't help but react, dancing back a step or two, hands coming up, ready to punch. "So what? Now you're all for running away?" She may juts punch him if it'll get some sense out of him.