TEST DRIVE 006

[returnjourney]

RETURN JOURNEY: TEST DRIVE 006

Welcome to the Return Journey's test drive meme! We appreciate your interest. Our TDM features a small sample of events your character might encounter in game, which you're free to embellish or improvise with your own ideas as desired. Don't worry if you haven't read everything yet; while we recommend skimming our FAQ for relevant questions, critical information should be contained or linked within the prompts themselves!

TDM threads can be used as samples for applications. Players can mutually keep threads as game canon after being accepted into the game, though threads featuring non-canon ports or events may need to be adjusted.

We suggest putting your character's name, canon, and potential role (warden or inmate) as the subject. If you're not sure which role you want to choose, feel free to try your hand at both!

If you have any questions about the TDM, please ask here.

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The Peregrine

1. Welcome Aboard!

Welcome aboard the SFS Peregrine, a ship in the Admiralty's Transformative and Penal Reparation Fleet. It is presently circling the outer perimeter of the Oos Ring Galaxy.

Wardens have been approached personally by the Navarch with a job offer: Come aboard the SFS Peregrine to assist in the redemption of an inmate, and receive a miracle known as a windfall as payment. Even if you don't ask as many questions as you should, every warden will be treated to a short Warden Orientation video explaining their expected duties and conduct.

Inmates have died and been placed aboard the SFS Peregrine as candidates for reformation. You may have come willingly, offered a choice between death or redemption, or you may have been collected against your will. Inmates are also treated to an Inmate Orientation; you'll find you have less privileges than a warden, but more motivation for...latitude. Violence? Chaos? Bribery? Blackmail? Well, no one said the path to redemption was without a few bumps along the way.

Given staff shortages, some wardens may be asked for a favor. Rather than leaving directly for the Peregrine, you've been asked to pick up an inmate from the limbo between death and redemption. During this mission, wardens will have clearance to enter a snapshot of sorts, where the inmate died (so devoid of other living beings). You either have to talk them into willingly coming along...or bring their unconscious, fresh-from-death not-corpse with you in the Avro provided. Better hope they don't wake up on the way!

Inmates, in this case, you'll be presented with the choice of death or redemption from a warden rather than the Navarch. Or possibly not provided with a choice at all, if death has rendered you unconscious. Good luck when you awaken to find yourself in a small ship, with someone you've never met. Try not to cause any trouble.

2. Pairings

Pairings are a critical aspect of the dynamic between warden and inmate. While interactions between wardens and inmates are not restricted to those in pairings, this relationship is a bit more...inescapable. Inmates test the limits of a warden, whether they take a more typical or unusual approach to matters; likewise, wardens learn what makes an inmate tick (and hopefully cooperate). Chances are, your values will clash.

A pairing of any sort is as varied as the individuals involved in them. And today, courtesy of the Navarch's monthly announcement, you and your sorry partner have been paired. Temporary or permanent, with a warden for an inmate or an inmate for a warden, it's your first day together — out of at least a month, so good luck setting some ground rules and figuring out each other's breaking points.

3. Dorm Life

Hey, inmates! Ever gone to summer camp? Had a sibling? If so, you might see where this is going. If not, welcome to your first experience with shared sleeping arrangements!

The dorms are lined with bunks, though maybe they're better described as pods: futuresque capsules stacked two high, with sleek white paneling and cool blue LED lightning. Each bunk can be closed off with a sliding door privacy and boasts a bladeless fan for temperature control. Bedding is adequate. If such modest conditions do not appeal to you: consider not committing crimes against other people.

And just like with siblings or summer camp, you don't get a say in who your bunkmate is. Maybe you'll luck out and get a light sleeper who doesn't toss and turn in the night. Maybe you won't, and you'll end up with someone who will kill you if you snore. Whoever you get is who you're stuck with until further notice!

Wardens get much more hospitable quarters, but they may want to keep an eye out on the inmate dorms. Just in case an inmate does try to kill their bunkmate.

4. The Peregrine

The Peregrine's layout and protocols have been designed with its intended passengers in mind, who are primarily Earth humanoids and inclined towards certain social and cultural practices. If you're wondering why you are on a ship of Earth humanoids despite not being one yourself, please understand that all ships in the Admiralty have a population capacity. At times it may be necessary to assign other species to a ship of this type, based on availability.

As a warden, you have full run of the ship map. Inmates...less so, but that's nothing a little creativity can't fix, right? Just remember, if a warden catches an inmate somewhere that inmate shouldn't be, it falls on the warden to handle the matter. And if the warden turns a blind eye...well, let's hope neither of you get caught. While it won't result in anything as extreme as a demotion, wardens can expect to get a stern dressing down; inmates, meanwhile, will be reprimanded by the warden who found them.

5. Networking

Now that you've powered on your CommLink for the first time and sat through the short tutorial and appropriate orientation, you're ready to explore the wonders of messaging. Video, audio, or text, the world is your oyster and you surely have opinions on it.

There is no anonymous option and IDs must be some variation of your name. (IC, characters will have to try their luck and see what the communicator will or won't accept when they register; OOC, it's up to players to decide what name to use if the character has multiple names or aliases.)

Wardens have access to a group network filter, something that inmates lack, and can track inmates throughout the ship with their CommLink. Inmates, best avoid getting your device confiscated or monitored.

6. Wildcard

If it's in our game pages, you can use it as a prompt! The sky's the limit.

Comments

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS.

[returnjourney]

mobius | mcu | warden

[favoriteanalyst]

bring out your dead
[Fetching people wasn't on his agenda, really. It seems like there should be a system already in place for that sort of thing. Was this a mistake? But Mobius won't complain (yet)--in a way, it feels like the TVA, only instead of plucking someone out of a branch of the timeline, it's...plucking someone from death, apparently. A job normally left for minutemen and hunters, but nothing he's not himself used to.

So here's this guy, just this normal looking guy, offering a hand.]

C'mon, up and at 'em. You're not done yet.

pairing
[This shouldn't be too hard. It's like Loki. Or like any of the other variants who've been brought in rather than pruned on sight. Have a file, read it over, get the details memorized. Ask questions. Dig deep. Loki could be redeemed, why not some other poor dead sucker?

He looks up from his inmate's file and spreads his hands.] So. Here we are. Floor's open if you want to say anything. [Defend themselves? Argue? Be silent and resigned?]

peregrine
[Mobius spends so much time at the library, frankly. Perusing information about this place and this cross-section of the universe. For relaxation. Settling in with some fiction to download. He'll go here for research, he'll go here for note-taking, he'll go here to have little meetings in the study spaces. In the mess, please do not comment on his caffeine intake. He is Perfectly Fine. None of these soda-substitutes is the same as a can of Josta, and it is perhaps making him grumpy. At least he eats healthy, but like, a glass of water won't kill you. Maybe he's cashing in some commissary tickets. Why does he have a bunch of old magazines, why are they about jet skis, who makes magazines about jet skis. These questions are unimportant!!!]

network
[ID: mmmobius]
Icebreaker time: if you could go anywhere and anywhen in time, where/when would you go?
Any answers that are 'go back in time and kill [x]' are disqualified.

wildcard
[go nuts for donuts my guys]

network | c.fraser

[nineteenfortyfive]

I hate this question.

[favoriteanalyst]

Then how about: if you could meet anyone, living or dead, who would it be?

network

[holdshisown]

Home. I would go home.

[favoriteanalyst]

So I'm starting to suspect this question sucks as an icebreaker. Noted.

SCREAM

[shiftedshape]

[Loki isn't really one to judge anyone's eating habits, though it's more out of a complete disinterest than any sort of self-awareness. He tends to eat absurdly large portions, by human standards, but that's because he needs to, to fuel his magic. So he has, vaguely, noticed that humans tend to eat considerably less than he does.

But this is just absurd.]

You know you can get more than that, yes? [Loki nods at the miniscule salad the new warden is picking at, then glances at the multiple empty cans beside it.] And if you need a drink that badly, you might check Warden Command. There's far stronger stuff in there.

[favoriteanalyst]

[He gives Loki a look. It should be (should be) familiar: kind of just acceptingly tired and Sick Of Your Shit already.]

I can't eat in peace with you around, can I?

[Which is to say, he's absurdly happy to see Loki and will not show it. Somehow it doesn't even cross his mind that this could be another variant.]

GASPS LOUDLY and very late

[counterstep]

( for as healthy as the food purports to be, it's the edibility that's more suspect for the general population. that's why it's bucky's first guess, when he sees the scowl on the new guy. between that and the fact the safety foam utensils are terrible at holding their shape, there's a lot of reason for anyone to pull a face in mess.

taking a seat across, he offers a sympathetic smile. ) I'd tell you not to worry, but anyone probably should if they actually got used to tasting slop.

well hello there stranger

[favoriteanalyst]

[It's not even any one thing, it's the...everything. Sure, okay, yeah, don't let dangerous people have sharp objects. Understood. Would a spork really kill anyone? (Maybe, but if someone manages it, it's almost deserved.) The food itself is...not thrilling. He's not expecting a steak and a cold can of Josta, but still.

He gives the friendly advice--Barnes, Winter Soldier, only decidedly not Wintery or Soldiery, so potentially a warden then rather than an inmate?--a scoff, half laugh half just tired.]

So I gotta try my luck with the commissary instead, huh?

i love him your honour, network;

[grindset]

Why am I going?

[favoriteanalyst]

Because you want to? It's the whole premise of the hypothetical. If you don't have anywhere or anywhen you want to see, then I guess I need a new question huh.

0846820-OF: Cyro | Original Character | Warden

[underscene]

BRINGING BACK THE DEAD
( For all his faults, Cyro did genuinely care for people. It was in his coding. To help rehabilitate; make people's lives easier, better. What that meant sometimes was skewed but he had long come to see this and, perhaps, that was a discussion for another time. The windfall promise was what sealed the deal and he'd admit just as much. It made his desire to aid no less genuine.

So, when tasked to pick up someone the ship desired from their point of passing, Cyro obliged. He stands clinically astute at the threshold of this place. Mechanical eyes scan the area, observing and analyzing the scene before him--the person he was tasked to retrieve. Tall, clean and pressed olive green uniform. He wore gloves--leather when outside of the OR--for reasons to be shared at a later date.

His hands folded neatly in front of his body. A voice, also mechanical--deep, with echo--speaks: ) You've another chance. Are you interested?

PAIRINGS
( He's a man with bountiful patience (when he's doing well, at least). He's seen acts of horror excused for acts of mercy and righteousness--occasionally he still believes it. Discussions for a later date. Nevertheless, what Cyro is presented with does not surprise or shake him.

Instead, Cyro welcomes them in. He places the file on a desk nearby within reach of the inmate as a silent invitation. ) Water, tea, coffee?

PEREGRINE
( The most obvious and immediate stop for Cyro to explore is the medbay. He's curious what they've to work with ther and, frankly, it was calming. Known. It was the one place he knew that he could not mess up. Safe from his failings.

But there were other places this man could be found. Walking along the halls with a swift gait. Though his uniform may not immediately suggest medical personel, the way he carried himself suggested a pride and sense of authority. He stopped into the library several times to gather information and sate curiosities.

Although he was also curious to speak with others, with other wardens. Learn of their experiences be it in the observatory as they watched the stars pass by, the warden command over a drink, or somewhere else entirely. )

WILDCARD
Feel free to whip something else up entirely, inbox him, or anything of the like! Also, info about him here!

[red_planet_blues]

[Another recent addition to the warden roster is a man who is currently holding a cup of coffee while perusing the liquor cabinet. Since he's new, Sparks doesn't really want to dip into the supply so soon, since he has no sense of how much stipend he's receiving yet. For now, coffee with have to act as a homey comfort instead. He does grumble a bit anyway.]

Mm. Not bad, not bad at all. Could be worse. Could be space rotgut.

peregrine

[clavesregni]

[Normally, Caitlyn would keep her hobbies confined to her cabin, but the library is particularly quiet today, and a change of scenery can sometimes do a mind good. Especially since she's still very much adjusting to the frightful inconvenience of digital documents.

A new perspective likely won't help when she can't lay physical papers out for herself in patterns, but she takes a few steps back anyway. She's so engrossed in what she's doing that she fails to notice the man she's walking backwards into.]

Maedhros | the silmarillion | inmate

[holdshisown]

1. Waking up

[Maedhros wakes with a violent start and his hand instinctively reaches out, searching for the sword he usualy keeps at his side only to find it gripping empty air. Panicked and shaking he tries to center his confused thoughts.

Dying. He can remember dying. The silmaril burning in his hand, the flames of the chasm reaching up with greedy tounges and his spirit trying to reduce him to ash from the inside out.

And with the memories comes the awareness that he is not alone here. He turns to greet his captor or fellow prisoner with an enraged snarl.]

2. Pairing

[Maedhros chafes under this new confinement and he follows his warden in a sullen silence, doing his best to see if an angry enough glare can realy bore a hole in someones back.]

If you think for even a moment that I will let this stand you are deluding yourself.

3. Wildcard

[Feel free to interact with this grumpy elf however you please.]

Pairings!

[underscene]

( Cyro stands--fascinated--in the observatory. Incredible the vastness of the world, the universe, when his own knowledge of life was so confined. It's beautiful, but his appreciation is cut short by a voice. Unfortunately, the stare does no such desired effect.

He turns--Maedhros is tall. Even Cyro, who stood above six feet, had to crane his neck upward just a touch. It didn't trouble him, though. Shoulders squared but relaxed and gloved hands falling folded in front of his body. ) Would you prefer to remain deceased?

waking up

[dog_eat_dog]

[His captor is trying to drive. Split attention isn't great when anyone's driving, but most of all with this particular driver: when she turns to look at him over her shoulder, the Avro drifts sideways in the opposite direction. Very fortunate that they're in space and not going off the edge of a highway.

She orders him:]

Hey! Don't freak out.

[Easy advice to follow, right?]

Caitlyn Kiramman | Arcane | warden

[clavesregni]

1. Dead People Collect-A-Thon

[Caitlyn has seen dead bodies before. Well, yesterday. She saw her first dead bodies yesterday. A few days ago, she might have thought such an experience would make her more worldly and tough. Now she knows that being so close to death is nothing more than horrifying.

The horror she feels doesn't deter her, though. This person she's been tasked with picking up may have been deemed villainous - they may, in fact, be villainous - but right now they're somebody who has gone through one of the worst experiences a person can, and they shouldn't have to go through it alone.

Whether they want it or not, they'll find a kind hand on their shoulder. The concern in Caitlyn's voice is genuine when she says,] Here, let me help you.


2. Pairings.

[The file is thick, but Caitlyn's read it so many times she practically has it memorized. It's filled with her own scribbles in the margins, small notes pinned or pasted to the pages - all the detritus of an overactive analytical mind running headfirst into a problem to be solved.

An inmate, of course, isn't a 'problem,' but the file is. And Caitlyn's convinced that if she goes over it enough times, she can work it out. Or at least not be so intimidated by the prospect of meeting her new inmate. She very valiantly refrains from nervously tapping her fingers against the pages as she straightens her back, squares her shoulders, puts on her best serious face, and tries to infuse enough authority into her tone to hide how unsure she is.]

I'd like to discuss your file.


3. The Peregrine

[Caitlyn's first stop is the athletics department, looking for a shooting range. She is, naturally, disappointed by the lack of facilities for her preferred sport. Shooting's the thing she's best at, after all; in the space between shouldering a rifle and pulling the trigger, the world is quiet and ordered. It brings her comfort in a way nothing else quite can. She thinks briefly about Vi and wonders whether she should try one of the punching bags, but ultimately decides not to.

The food in the mess hall is similarly disappointing. It tastes alright, if she doesn't think about it too much, but when you've grown up eating the finest meals cooked by the finest chefs, an imitation will never be the same. Find her sitting alone, by herself, in a corner, with a vaguely repulsed look on her face.

The library, at least, is not disappointing. Documents, not just from Runeterra, but from everywhere.. Solving cold cases isn't the same as an active investigation, but perhaps she can do something useful while waiting to be assigned an inmate. A vast collection of historical documents pertaining to unsolved murders? What more could a girl ask for.]


4. Wild Card, Bitches! Yeeeeeee-haw!

[Come talk to her about her boxes full of Pepe Silvia, or anything else that strikes your fancy.]

3

[dog_eat_dog]

[There's something about new-girl-in-the-corner-of-the-lunch-room that puts a look on Tess's face; she meanders that way with her own tray, but when she stops short of Caitlyn's table, she does not pull out a seat.

She's smiling, but her tone is blunt:]

When commissary opens next, do yourself a favour and spend some tickets on a bottle of ketchup or something.

!!! option 3 suboption library;

[grindset]

[What more? A girl could ask for books. A proper library, with motes hanging in streams of filtered light and long wooden shelves packed with spines to run your fingers across—something more tangible than data delivered to a little trifold slab of glass and plastics.
A girl could request this and receive a facsimile thereof, in foam.
A girl could also be like this boy over here, who mourned the lack of paper for a minute, and then became more or less inseparable from the little trifold slab he was assigned.
This boy, whose presence is unintentionally announced through a brief series of coughs from another section of the library.

It's been months now since Viktor first came aboard, and his increasing fluency with the technology is apparent in the crisp certainty of his fingers on the surface of the library terminal. After the last peck his hand snaps away—gracefully positioned, almost a flourish, like he's playing an instrument that happens to grant access to an intergalactic wiki—and then hangs there in the air while he reads, on standby. His other hand, grasping the terminal's edge, is in a plain black glove. That distinctive crutch is leaning next to him, he's still wearing that vest with the tails, and his hair is giving the same cry for help it was probably giving the last time she saw him... however long ago that was. Increasing laboratory hermitude and all.]

I'm busy,

[he says, without looking up to see who belongs to those footfalls.]

Ask someone else.

3

[red_planet_blues]

[As Caitlyn is distracted by the overwhelming blandness of her automat-issued meal, an arm appears from her side, depositing a small salt shaker in front of her. It is, of course, made of foam.

The person attached to that arm is holding a cup of coffee, and was heading out after finishing up his own meal on the other side of the cafeteria. He can relate to that expression.]

Ain't much, but it's better than nothin'.

beth greene | the walking dead | warden

[littlemissfutility]

fetch an inmate.

Well, that sure is a corpse in front of them. Beth has no idea where they are, only that they're surrounded by more noise and neon than she's seen in years, and she can't read any of the words lit up in the night. And while there's a whole lot of blood soaking into the pavement, none of it is near the head.

"Is this the right one?" she asks, a few steps back from the body. She's not quite reaching for her hunting knife, but there's a kind of tension threading through her limbs. "It's gotta be the right one, right?"

pair an inmate.

"Hi. I'm Beth." And as wardens go, she's probably not the most imposing anyone's seen: skinny and scarred, wearing a messy ponytail and a neat little sweater set. But it's kind of a weird ship, full of people who don't seem like they belong. She's kind of counting on that to work in her favour. "I think I'm your warden for a while."

The I stretches out just a little, the slight touch of a southern accent colouring it.

rest.

She's sitting on a stool in Warden Command, in the little medical area, squinting in a mirror while she holds a set of tweezers in one hand. A pair of medical shears is on the counter in front of her.

When she furrows her brow, the scar above one brow furrows along with. The one on her cheek opposite doesn't. With an uncertain hand, she tries to grab a stitch with the tweezers - the better to hold it in place while she snips the thread - but it's clear that doing it while watching the backwards version in the mirror is easier said than done.

If she notices you before you speak, she'll ask, "You know anything about taking out stitches?"

If she doesn't - well, try talking first. We'll see how that goes.

wildcard.

[ Start us off someplace else. PM me if you'd like to discuss beforehand. ]

ring ring it's your inmate

[saintclaire]

Kim is as polished as inmates come. Her blouse is wrinkle-free from hanging near the showers, and not a single hair strays from her ponytail, even if she hasn't managed to get it into that uniform curl at the bottom. Her expression is tight, unsmiling, but she carries herself and her cup of coffee like she's late for a meeting. Like she's at work. Maybe meeting some teenager at the courthouse, prepping to wrangle a dismissal on a shoplifting charge, or something. It unsettles her, a feeling that just makes her more tightly wound.

Bizarre, to be on this end of things.

She blinks at the statement.

"You think?" she repeats, but she continues past her own bluntness with an offered hand to shake. "Beth. I'm Kim."

rest.

[seinens]

Well, she asked the right person.

Even fully dressed, the skin peeking out of sleeves, his collar, even his face, is puckered with scars. Some thin, some thick, some new, some old-- this is someone who has seen a fight. More than one.

He runs a large hand down his face, which only manages to highlight how one of his eyes just doesn't open. "Yeah," he says, voice deep, "you could say that. You're probably more delicate with it than me, though."

His hands, like the rest of him, are large and calloused. He waves one to demonstrate.