memepad | test drive!

arrival.

We don't have a brilliant arrival prompt as of yet, but you're welcome to take a look at the arrival page and post your character's arrival if you desire! You may count this test drive as a canonical arrival if you decide to keep the character in game. Many of the below prompts are in possible arrival locations, but do not need to be arrivals.

Shopping, or something like it.

Maybe you want a toothbrush. A swimsuit. Enough sun protection to ease the transition for a vampire who'd lived their entire life safely tucked away on a space station far, far away from anything remotely sun-like. Maybe you just want to put yourself someplace everyone else is bound to go, sooner or later. Maybe you're just someone who will always default to "let's go hang out at the mall", for that matter.

Maybe you're used to shoplifting, and won't notice anything about the mall's security levels, at least at first. Maybe you're a scrupulous goody-two-shoes, and you're going to have a problem when you realize that not only is nobody asking you to pay, but there is literally no way to pay for anything you wanted to purchase.

Maybe you're just going to have to throw a temper tantrum when you realize that the Orange Julius-like storefront is also completely unstaffed, and no more automated than any other Orange Julius you've ever seen, and so you don't have any way of getting the perfect smoothie.

(Unless, maybe, you can find someone else who's got more experience with a blender than you have.)

On the shoreline.

Look. You've been to the beach before, haven't you? You know what to expect when you get there: salty water, some sand, the general sinking dread that the overpowering chemical reek of artificial-coconut-scented sunscreen is coming to get you; the usual, right?

This is maybe not your usual beach. Possibly because it's a little more like a coral reef or atoll; possibly because it's a little more like someone got carried away with programming fractals into a really big 3D printer; possibly because it isn't all that much at all like the beach you were just at, if you were maybe at a beach just before you came here anyway. No toddler temper-tantrums in earshot, no seagull con artists waiting for you to be the slightest bit distracted so they can steal your food right out of your hands, no overpowering chemical reek of artificial coconut...

Don't worry too much, though. There is sunscreen, over at the little vending machine over that-a-way, along with coverups and hats and sunglasses (oh my) — pity you can't tell what they're going to look like before the machine has spat them out at you, though.

(The water does, at least, feel like water, and taste like salt, even if the sand is disconcertingly perfectly-just-off-white, and only a few inches deep above the hull.)

By the way—if you came here in a boat, this is going to be home, at least for your boat. These are the only berths you're going to find; you can claim a berth, and if it was empty when you did, you can—presumably—keep it. Some berths are already filled with other boats. Some of these boats were clearly meant for public use, and others seem as if they used to have people living in them, or at least had private owners. Nobody's living in them right now, though. Strange.

Enjoy the spa.

Or else, you can try to enjoy the spa, if you’re motivated or don’t require any staff.

Because there isn’t any. Much like the shoreline, like the mall, like the apartments, there is a whole lot of absolutely nothing unless you can figure out how to wake up the AI—and even if you do, the AI doesn’t have a clue about how to do a massage or a stretch or a chemical peel.

But you can still enjoy the saltwater pools. Or the salt room.

Or the really nice lounge.

Or the lotus pond grid.

You can also get some good skin care supplies, or put up a note on the digital bulletin board stating what you’re looking to get done. There might be another new arrival who can give you the stretch or facial you’re looking for. If you’re someone with those skills? Better stick around. Someone might be in need.

Wildcard.

If none of these inspire you—or if all of them do and you just want to add another thing to respond to, it's up to you whether you want to put one response or several in a top level comment, we're good with anything you like—you've got a whole chunk of an empty solarpunk island to do something with. The further you stray from that shoreline the harder you will be to locate by others, but we encourage you to have fun!

Anything that the setting page inspires is probably fair game! Feel free to ask before posting if you've got any questions that reading through the mod journal doesn't yet clarify; consider this a sort of beta run. ♥

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The way she watches him feels more appropriate to System Cerberus than System Lion. At least it's open. Open enough. If Casmir were here, Rache would have suspected he already got to this woman. However, his twin is in no condition to give anyone fizzop, much less anything else. He's also unlikely to be here, based on what little information Rache has. He doesn't rule it out. "How do you tell the difference?" he asks. It's an absurd conversation, but even mercenaries can have a sweet tooth.

No one else is immediately around them. It's been far emptier than such a pristine habitat would suggest, unless the lack of people explains its cleanliness. He slows, so they have time for more of a conversation. "How much math did you have to do to get it?" Rache asks. It's far more absurd, but Casmir's rambling sticks in his memory.

She'd been about to say because it tasted nothing like the fruit, just like Grape, but then he asked about math, and her brow twitched. "You have to do math for soda?"

The you is pressed upon: all incredulity and some pity.
Sara knocks him off as not from her Earth for both questions.

"I have some great news for you about this trap then."

Maybe not even her universe. Also, this way too much for a conversation about soda, but she'd started and settled on it anyway. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd had one, but until she found herself a good bottle of Whiskey or Scotch, even if none would be as good as Rip's time stolen stash, it would make do. At least while figuring out this getup and whether it meant any of the things she thought it did.

Rache laughs, dryly. Good, she doesn't know Casmir. "I've been offered math for soda," he says. It makes about as little sense now as it did when it was offered. "Work shown and all."

'Trap' flags his attention. Rache doesn't shift his posture, but it's a useful piece of information. Another kidnapped guest of this metropolis? Whatever gate or other device opened to bring him here he hasn't been able to find. If it's anything like the gate and gate pieces everyone is after, she could be from anywhere. However much the two kinds of gates have in common. Interesting.

"Complementary beverages?" he deadpans. "It would take more than fizzop to make my day." Still, it's useful information.

"Well, you aren't the worst person I've run into today then."

Beat.

"Unless this whole thing-" There's a wave at his outfit. "-changes that."

She'd hate to have to start this whole thing with killing someone. At least she'd like to hold on to that sentiment; honestly, it might make her feel calmer briefly. But she doesn't allow herself to focus on the too deep, too true impulse. At least not any longer than she does any other dozen times of the day it presses up, even about the people she respects and loves in her own crew.

"So, what gives? Costume party I didn't get an invite to?"

He doesn't aspire to be monster Kingdom parents warn their children about, so Rache files away the fact someone terrible may be here. He knows so little, it doesn't affect his choices. "Hmm," is all he says.

Rache pauses as she waves at him. At his armor, perhaps, or rifle on his back, the DEW-Tek pistol, the SK-Ram pistol, or the grenades on his utility belt. Probably, it's all of it together. When stations are peaceful, people usually blanche at the armor. That's why he sometimes opted for a galaxy suit and the pistols. As always when in public, the mask and hood. He considers the time of day.

"I've had an eventful week," Rache says. "Don't know how you missed the party. What have you been doing?"

"Saving time and space?"

Said with all the arrogance of someone who doesn't mind showing off that fact. Especially since most people don't really get who the Legends are as people, what the name means, and how the name actually has absolutely nothing to do with the definitions or the arrogance that no one has around it. Except as being proud of who they are, what they do, what they've sworn themselves to. Sure sometimes it's hell, but sometimes -- most times -- they mess things up for the better.

"Must have missed the memo." Another, without even aiming for subtle as she stays on this track. "What did you get stolen from?"

Appearing straight-froward curious, but it anything not put off by it. She's out of numbers already for ways she's considered the attack. Deflections. Reaching, taking, or disarming. Same with all the things on the docks around them. It's always nice when people bring her toys to take them down with. Means she doesn't have to do the work.

Which doesn't discount just how many weapons are hidden behind her unassuming outfit.

"Hmm," Rache repeats. Saving time is curious. There's plenty of fiction around the matter. Other than traveling from one system to another in an instant, via the gates, time travel isn't a regularity in the Twelve Systems. Any current time is complicated enough on its own. He doesn't like the thought of Jaeger with access to time travel. Not that Admiral Mikita would likely be any more biddable than Rache or Casmir.

"Would you like an invitation to the next one?"

He lifts an eyebrow. It isn't visible through the mesh mask. It covers a multitude of sins, but Rache isn't easily perturbed. His descent was in clear view of the docks, so odds are she noticed his arrival. Given how little was out there, especially if she had a similar experience, it's not hard to put two and two together. Yes, he sighs mentally, that is in fact math. "An errand," he says. In space. The other reason to wear something that can protect him from a vacuum. She'd be out of luck in the shuttle if someone shot a hole in it. "Yourself?" He trusts her as far as his surgeon can throw a crusher.

That's not an answer, Sara's eyebrows are quick to note and comment on. She adds 'cagey' or 'secretive,' among several other potential qualifiers. But not without noting that it's not like she wants to tell anyone else what she is when she's covered in blood and still has to get from one place to another. She's rarely in clothes that give up what she is anymore.

But anything like her isn't an early factor in good points for a person.

"My ship. I was headed to bed. Walked through a door. Suddenly here."

One step in the quiet of the night of her Waverider, the next, it was water and wind and voices. Which she picked up the second it happened, but by the next second glance over her shoulder, the ship was already gone. She didn't like it. But until she found the right person to hold against a wall with a knife, she could be patient. How patient might make it worse when she did find that person.

This shadow of a conversation is more peaceful than most people get when he's in combat armor. Rache doesn't wear it all the time, only when he sees a high enough likelihood of violence. Captain Lopez, for all she had no logical reason to attack him at this time, had attempted to blow him up in the past. His intentions, despite what they looked like, are peaceful. Or were. This place, he's unsure of.

"Hmm," he says. With the amount of information she's shared, the reference to walking through a door, Rache decides to return in kind. "I flew out the shuttle bay." They are both a kind of door. He appreciates it not happening when he walked around his ship in only a galaxy suit.

"How long have you been here?" Rache asks. He doesn't trust the answer as is, but if she knows about more than the free drinks (or even of drinks that are actually healthy)... It's not as simple as an outright attack, but not everyone shoots on sight.

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