returnjourneymemes | TEST DRIVE 001

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test drive meme

TEST DRIVE 001

RETURN JOURNEY: TEST DRIVE 001

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 squalls 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.

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. Accidents and Sabotage

A. Lights Out

As everyone knows, when it's lights out in a prison...interesting things can happen.

Whether a natural fluctuation from traveling through heavy space debris or something more unnatural (maybe it was you), the power has gone out. While life support continues to function, it's pitch black and any areas usually locked to wardens are left with doors open. It's the perfect setting for a riot, breaking and entering, thievery...your general crimes, petty and otherwise. Wardens, of course, are expected to stymie these efforts, but that doesn't necessarily mean they'll succeed. What's a little chaos between friends?

Our apologies if you happen to be in an elevator when the power dies.

B. Invasive Species

Being in space, sometimes space things happen.

Somehow (and hopefully you or someone you know isn't responsible for that "somehow"), a greater lunar tetacocien has gotten on board. Quite a feat, since they're the size of a rhino, but they have an impressive ability to squeeze through anything large enough to fit their beak. Unfortunately venomous, carnivorous, and native to the starstuff of Oos, the creature needs to be rounded up before it destroys anything (or anyone) aboard the ship. Please do not attempt to eat; the flesh is toxic.

The multi-legged predator can be immobilized with shots from an energy weapon... Too bad inmates can't carry them. Time to improvise! Or steal one, if you're canny enough.

4. Squalls

Occasionally, the ship passes through squalls, the equivalent of cosmic turbulence that can mess with little things like, say...the fabric of reality. These are shipwide effects, though who they hit is variable. Sometimes you might fall victim; other times you might be the one standing by, exasperated, as you deal with those affected.

(In other words, it's up to player discretion. And feel free to make up your own squalls!)

A. Truth Bomb

One week, those affected cannot tell a lie. Wardens and inmates alike can only speak the truth, though it varies whether they blurt out a response to any question asked or can keep mum.

B. Stuck Together

Another week, you're stuck together. Travel any farther than two meters from your buddy and you'll experience intense physical pain. There isn't anything visible to this connection; it isn't something you can sever (not that this means you can't try). So have fun with your group activities and try not to kill each other.

5. 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.

6. 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.

7. Wildcard

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

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II. PAIRINGS

[Whether temp or permanent, Claire wastes no time in tracking down her inmate. She's not one to put things off. She's also not especially patient, so she'd rather get awkward introductions done and over with.

And now here you are, face to face. She at least puts on a kind smile.]

We should get to know one another.

[It's an invitation to talk.]

III-A. LIGHTS OUT

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.

[The woman that'd only given a polite smile upon entering the elevator is very loud when the lights shut off and the thing comes to a halt.]

Did this bloody thing just lose power?

[As someone with a passing interest in space travel and sci-fi, the prospect of this place losing all power sends her gut plummeting to the soles of her feet. Seems like it's not an ideal situation. But panic won't do anything, so Claire decides to see if her newfound companion is all right. And if they'll be of any help, be it getting out of here or company for the wait.]

Are you okay?

VII. WILDCARD

[The sky is the limit! For TDM purposes feel free to assume she's your new warden. Down for mashing up prompts together, too.]

[The smile that tugs at Ezio's mouth when he hears her curse in the dark is as instinctive as the way he adjusts his balance with the short stop.

He supposes they're lucky that gravity persists, even if the lights and engines do not. So too is he lucky that his clumsiness with technology is balanced out by his familiarity with beautiful (and seemingly foul-tempered) women: he'd take good company over gravity any day.

He looks for her in the dark.]

I am fine, buona signora. And you?

[She'd be more worried about oxygen than gravity, but she really doesn't want to ponder the intricacies of where power goes, what's prioritized, and what happens if it should fail entirely. One thing at a time.]

Fine. Maybe less fine if we're in here for very long. I take it that this is a first?

[And hopefully not a repeating trend. She takes a step forward in the dark to feel the walls beside the door. What is she looking for? She has no idea.]

In the better part of a year on a ship? The first, yes.

[The novelty of the elevator had worn off quickly, its utility little more than thirty seconds of standing still to stave off thirty seconds of walking, and there is nothing Ezio abhors more than boredom, no matter how fleeting.

He makes his way to the window, pressing himself close to the glass to see as far as he can along the track. They're midway between the two arms, endless yawning space separating them from either end.]

I have found my way out of many challenging situations, but this one...

[Very comforting.]

Wonderful.

[Claire hesitates, contemplating the benefits of smacking a seemingly dark control panel of sorts. What are the chances they somehow get ejected into space? With all that tends to happen to her, from time travel to ghosts to just pain old shitty bad luck on a constant basis, she's not eager to fuck around and find out.]

Let's hope someone on the outside knows how to fix this. Until then, it looks like you and I are going to be friends.

[The scar across his lip is tugged by a little smile. He can make friends fast, certainly, but:]

I will warn you. I do not often let go of friendships just because a door opens.

[Connor is not quite used to the whole "flying through outer space in a metal machine" thing yet, let alone elevators. He is trying to appear all nonchalant as he tries these terrifying new things for the first time, an endeavor that fails when the elevator lunges to a dark, vertiginous stop.

Thankfully she can't see how deeply unsettled he is.

He clears his throat and starts to gingerly look around with an outstretched hand. How small is this box, anyway?]

It would appear so. [Is that rude? Maybe that's rude. He pauses.] Are you?

[If they both pretend all is well, then it has to be. Fake it until you make it.]

I am. At least for the time being. [It's a coin toss whether time ticking by will lead to her growing anxious or bored.] You wouldn't happen to be some sort of mechanical genius, would you?

[That would be great.]

Otherwise, we're at the mercy of someone coming to our aid.

[Ah. Waiting for someone else to rescue him isn't really Connor's style. Or maybe he just doesn't know how to be patient. Either way.

He doesn't really answer her, instead just continuing to blindly search the cab. And because he is stupid tall, he manages to reach the ceiling, though only with his fingertips.]

There is a latch. But I cannot... quite reach...

A latch to where, exactly?

[Not, like. Space. Right? Surely not. Claire would be the first one to volunteer to be boosted up to check out the latch and where it leads, but the hesitation is clear in her voice.]

I want to believe there are safeguards to stop us from tumbling out into the stars, but I'd also believed there was no way we'd lose power and get stuck in here.

[Connor hesitates, then glances over to the general area she's standing in.]

There must be something this box travels in. A shaft of some kind within the ship. Come, I need your help.

[That he calls it a box is not inspiring confidence.]

Possibly, but I don't know if that shaft necessarily has air in it. Are we risking that?

[You can't be ride or die just yet, Connor.]

[Don't be temporalist. He is doing his best.

He also doesn't understand what she means by "no air," but he's not going to say that out loud.]

The alternative is to wait indefinitely. We do not know how long it will take for us to be found.

[The question of air does make her wonder if they could run out of air in the elevator. It doesn't seem to be getting overly stuffy... so maybe they just have to trust that the place is designed with some failsafe plans.]

Okay. Boost me up?

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akweks - 2021-12-19 03:18 (UTC) - Expand

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nineteenfortyfive - 2021-12-19 05:30 (UTC) - Expand

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akweks - 2021-12-20 02:38 (UTC) - Expand

[In the wake of the announcement about "temporary assignments," Brendan takes time to consider if he ought to pay homage to the art of disappearing in a crowd. No hint of the injuries that punched his ticket to the ship remain, but there's an itch under his perfectly-healed skin that makes him want to claw it all back open--prove the dependability of his pulse with pain. He's surely in no mood to meet his nursemaid.

In the end, Claire's success in spotting her new ill-gotten acquisition idling around the center axis is the result of his decision. Play his cards right and anything can be an opportunity. Even this indignity.]

Oh. English. Pairing the patriots together, are they.

[She could be forgiven for overlooking him in a crowd either way. Young. Plain, nondescript clothes. He's not much to look at for a starship passenger: two eyes, ten fingers, no malformed cranium or alien tentacles. From the tight curl of his own smile as he sizes her up, he might be thinking much the same.]

Well, you don't look like much of a prison guard, if you don't mind me saying so.

[She imagines one can't really go into this knowing what to expect no matter how much is laid out on the table. The first thing she notes is that he's young. Very young. She doesn't do well to hide the frown and the crease in her brow, but she doesn't outright point it out. Obviously, he knows his age.

Claire's old enough to be his mother--but that's nothing out of the ordinary, here.]

What should a prison guard look like, then? Bigger? Burly, with a beard?

[Claire rubs her chin thoughtfully.]

[In fact, she might be slightly older than his mother give or take where she falls on the side of gently aging features and paling hair color. Middle age hardly precludes someone being a threat--the old adage that it's just a number works in both directions--but her exact age is more a mystery than her skills in potentially laying out some corporal punishment.

Clearly not Garda, this one. She has the look of someone who's lived lean. Hard, even. But not combat hard.

Maybe he should be all the more insulted by that. Except he's working too hard to smother his anger to let slip consternation. He joins in the consideration, casual down to the easy flex of his neck, before she can start asking what's on her mind.]

A more severe military cut. [He mimes the flat surface of a brush cut along his head.] With a billy club. An armed guard, perhaps. Or an extra set of arms. I'm still working out this spacefaring race business.

Edited 2021-12-19 11:49 (UTC)

[ It's lights out and Jamie, absolutely disoriented as he already is, has decided, for the most part, to stay planted in one spot until the lights come back. Which is turning out to be much longer than he anticipated.

What spurs him into movement isn't a sound really, but a smell. He can't even explain it at first, as if it passed him. There are others of course, but he follows his nose and realizes why: thyme. Claire has it hanging to dry in her surgery, and he smiles in the dark before realizing he might have just followed a complete stranger in the dark, and that wouldn't go over well - inmate that he is.

But he's sure of it now, the herb mixed with the exact smell of the perfume he'd bought for Claire in Cross Creek. He figures since most words in the Gàidhlig sound like throat noises, if it is his wife she'd surely respond to her name. Clearing his throat, he takes a chance. ]

Sassenach?

[There's only one person who can call her that, really. Claire freezes, hand on the wall to steady her, and then turns around to squint into the dark.]

Jamie?

[Well, that's not as planned. For a number of reasons. Switching the hand that keeps her balanced, she takes a few hurried steps towards him until she slams into him with a force surprisingly powerful for someone so slender.]

What? What the hell are you doing here?

[Says the woman he probably did not expect to be here, either.]

[ Despite the circumstances, he can't help but let out a laugh at the solid mass of his wife suddenly against his chest. His arms wrap around her automatically, holding on tight. ]

I could ask ye the same thing, Sassenach. But I'm glad to ken ye dinna smell any different. Ye still smell like herbs.

[ And in fact, he buries his nose in her hair for a few seconds before speaking again. ]

Are ye alright?

[She didn't expect the familiarity of her husband here, and while she's grateful to have him, she seems a little distraught, too.]

I'm fine, I was just trying to find my way in the dark, but... Christ, please tell me you're not an inmate.

[ One hand rubs her back. ]

It seems I've found my purgatory. Aye, I'm an inmate. [ He isn't surprised. But it isn't what he wants for his wife, so he's hoping, mightily. ]

You, a nighean?

[She looks like he just told her he married someone on the side or something. So, you know. He knows that look on her face. Assuming he can make it out in the dark--but the tone of voice really gives her away.]

What? I'm a warden. How the hell are you an inmate, Jamie?

[ At least she isn't dead. That's another relief to him, and he brings her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. ]

It isna as if I meant to die, Sassenach. But it seems we cannae escape the fire. I didna ken where ye were but if you're a warden, I suppose that means the obituary was incorrect after all.

[ Because she's a warden and he...isn't. ]

Edited 2021-12-18 21:01 (UTC)

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nineteenfortyfive - 2021-12-19 01:55 (UTC) - Expand

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seventeenfortythree - 2021-12-19 02:35 (UTC) - Expand

[ The woman in the elevator beside her -- reserved, polite, inmate to be sure but, so far, difficult to get a bead on beyond that fact -- slides Claire the sort of look one might earn upon asking a toaster if it missed its latest slice of toast.

Sadly, lost to the dark.

Not quite lost, however, is the delicate hint of fuck off in: ] I'm undamaged.

[ Should the clunk of her boots sound so heavy against the elevator floor? Maybe it's the absence of other sound -- cables and gears stopped, vent fans spinning to silence, a living thing could suffocate -- save for two steps and the brisk slide of gloves over metal, her fingers searching. ]

You're a warden. [ Not a question. (Whether she's okay is, also, not a question.) ] Explain the process for removing the [ not baring her teeth but ] safety protocols applied to inmates in this place.

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TEST DRIVE 001

claire fraser | outlander | warden

B) lights out babyyyy

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all assassins in your lights out prompt all the time

it's how i like them!!!!!

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brb researching the 18th century concept of space

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II

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VII of course lmao i will only be tl;dr this one time i promise lol

so you SAY also like it's a bad thing

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iii. lights out