st_aff: (Carnival)
Strange Staff ([personal profile] st_aff) wrote in [community profile] strangetrip_ooc2018-08-13 06:38 pm

[ Meme ] August-September Test Drive Meme (TDM)



It's that time again!

→ Comment with a new character you'd like to test out in the game's setting. (put character/canon in subject line pls!)
→ You don't have to be in the game to comment! HI NEW PEOPLE LET US ENABLE YOU.
→ Tag around with new and old characters.
→ App all those characters
→ ???
→ PROFIT!

Holds for current players are here. Current cast list is here. If you're a new player and you'd like to place a 2-week reserve, you can do so here.

* * *


Here, have a few helpful scenarios for test-driving. Feel free to ignore them and make your own.

I.
Wherever you were, you aren't any longer. You took a turn, a step, blinked and you're somewhere else entirely. A long dusty road leads from nowhere to an oasis (or a nightmare, depending on your taste) of pink and bright light in the midst of the scrub desert and there's nothing and no one else in sight. If you linger long enough on the road, one of the Inn's residents will find you, but you feel noticeably drawn to come inside.

The pink and gold lobby looks like a bunny puked Easter everywhere, and the guy at the reservation desk looks a sort of silly putty shade of pinkish grey. He knows you by name and has a room reserved for you, but other than offering you fresh towels, that's all he has to say. Chances are, one of the residents will intercept you before you talk to Darryl the shade. They'll give you a guest basket with toiletries and chocolates and whatever else Caroline thinks a newcomer needs, and explain (nicely) that you're stuck here, but hey, it's not so bad. It's pretty safe, anyway. At least... so far.

II.
The red, gold and gaudy pink of the Copper Cafe overflows with residents. It's morning, the one and only time nearly everyone finds themselves in the same space for a short window before going about their day. The scent of fresh coffee laces the air, mingling with the buttery aroma of fresh baked pastry. The shade who serves as a cook, Kahni, awaits any orders that include chicken (chicken, not eggs), and Carlos has staffed one of the residents who can cook to make anything else you'd like. Kitty's pouring drinks -- no reason not to drink bloody maries or mimosas on your permanent holiday. Grab a spot at the counter or take a seat at an empty table, now that you're a resident too, there's no better way to start your day.

III. Network
[ooc: Our network is text-based and magic journal. No computers yet. You see this suspiciously well-painted image appear in your network-journal. Uh-oh. Someone taught Lillith to meme.]

storiesofmyown: (scared)

Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
II.

Face drawn with exhaustion and skin dull with malnutrition, Martha wandered among the residents, bewildered by their casual attitudes. She carried a cup of coffee that she alternately guzzled and forgot to drink. Sure the bartender had told her earlier that it was safe here in this pocket dimension -- all well and good for some, but how was she meant to spread the word about the Doctor trapped where and whenever here was? And more importantly, how was she supposed to forget fire-cloud sky of Japan burning?

A small hovering drone (one of Kitty's though Martha didn't know it) buzzed by and Martha dove for cover, screaming "Get down!" It was pure reflex, though. Any second now, the Toclafane would blanket the room in deadly weapons fire.
st_ripetail: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] st_ripetail 2018-08-14 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, hard pass on that one, humie." Rocket's tone wasn't entirely unsympathetic, because the woman's reflexes were actually not-bad. Like yeah, she was diving for cover because of what amounted to a toy, but if it had been an attack she'd've probably lived.

And... he got where she was. He really did. It'd taken years for him to get less twitchy, and he was still pretty twitchy. "I got rules about hidin' from fuckin' buzzy toys."
storiesofmyown: (determinator)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
Martha heard the words, but it took a minute for them to register. And when they did, if the short possibly raccoon-related alien expected her to be embarrassed, it had another thought coming. If anything, she looked indignant--and was feeling a bit narky about spilling a perfectly good coffee on her only clothes.

"Who the bloody hell makes buzz-toys that look like genocidal robots?"
st_ripetail: (building)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] st_ripetail 2018-08-14 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
"Nah, genocidal robot're usually bigger. Plus, more scalpels an' hypodermics an' shit. Or heavy artillery or whatever." Good reflexes and she bounced back! "And I guess I build shit like that sometimes, though that one wasn't mine."
storiesofmyown: (determinator)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 02:47 am (UTC)(link)
"Not the ones I was running from until I showed up here." At least she and this alien, whatever his species was (who cared that the Doctor would know?), spoke the same language. "They looked about like that. And the ones before them looked like pepper shakers." She folded her arms over her chest and stared down at him. "I survived them both, so if you're planning to get genocidal while I'm here, do us a favor, yeah? And quit before you start."
st_ripetail: (gun silhouette)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] st_ripetail 2018-08-14 02:50 am (UTC)(link)
"Pfft, if I was gonna break I'da fuckin' done it by now." Rocket folded his own arms and stared back up. Did she think she was scary? Because she fuckin' was not. "Besides, I'm a Guardian of the Freakin' Galaxy. I play nice-ish an' only blow up moons that reeeeaally goddamn deserve it."
storiesofmyown: (everyday)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
"Just the Galaxy, then?" Martha flashed him a cheeky grin. "Coming down in the world, me. Last alien I traveled with reckoned himself Guardian of the Universe." And was, but if she got into thinking seriously, she'd lose herself to the grief and confusion.
st_ripetail: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] st_ripetail 2018-08-14 03:27 am (UTC)(link)
"Guardian a'the Galaxy sounds better. Alliterative an' shit." Yes, Rocket knew the word alliterative. He blamed Jemma. Shut up. "Also we gotta leave room to expand, right? Shit gets borin' if ya start at the top."
storiesofmyown: (everyday)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
At that, Martha dissolved into giggles. He might not be her Doctor, but this one was dead clever, and when she'd stopped laughing, she held out her hand. "Martha Jones. And what do I call you?"
st_ripetail: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] st_ripetail 2018-08-14 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
Rocket blinked a little bit at the extended hand, then took it (kind of, he had tiny hands compared to a humie) and did his best to shake it. Humie customs! "I go by Rocket." 'Legally' it wasn't his name, but his 'legal name' was shit and he didn't want to say it. "Where you from that buzzy toys're fuckin' everything up?
storiesofmyown: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
"Earth." Martha knew how that sounded, but considering that she was shaking hands with another alien species, she reckoned he could handle that. "Just a different when, I think. What's your galaxy like if you've got moons that deserve blowing up?"

There, now, Martha. Don't think about the Doctor's opinion of blowing up moons. It won't make this any easier.
st_ripetail: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] st_ripetail 2018-08-14 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
"Eh, same old collection'a variously advanced mudballs. Ravagers. Lotta jails. Psycho Kree nutjobs tryn'a blow up civilized planets. Giant space skulls bein' mined for neural fluids an' shit." Rocket paused, then added, "Apparently one'a my best friends's dad's some god-planet asshole, so that's a thing."
storiesofmyown: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
"Space skulls mined for neural fluids is a new one on me." But with her being a doctor, it was also the most...egregious somehow. Then again, god-planet asshole had interest going for it. "Your friend's dad is a god-planet?"
st_ripetail: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] st_ripetail 2018-08-14 04:43 am (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, so he says. He's from after me, so I dunno. Nova Corps did say he was only half-human and half somethin' fuckin' old, so I dunno. God-planet seems reasonable." An evil god-planet the Guardians had had to kill, apparently? Rocket was annoyed to have missed that fight. "Anyway it's 'was' a god-planet. Apparently he was into nasty shit an' Quill killed him."
storiesofmyown: (cool)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-14 06:46 am (UTC)(link)
"The Doctor would say 'there's always another way' besides killing," Martha mused, against her better judgment letting her thoughts touch on him. "And usually he's right, there is, but sometimes... sometimes that better way is going to take centuries that the rest of us don't have. So, yeah. I think 'was' is probably a good thing in this case."
meredevachon: (cassie)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] meredevachon 2018-08-14 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
The splinter suit wasn't working. It seemed like it was working, but it didn't matter when or where Cassie programmed for, it never sent her any further than the bubble around this hotel that was nothing like the Emerson. There was no sign of Cole. Or Athan. Or any of the others who had been family but were now hunting them. Cassie needed to stop and think, to make a plan of what to do next. But this place had coffee and decent booze and food, all things that had been in short supply in 2046.

She was just entering the cafe when the woman shouted a warning, and Cassie was diving for cover before the words registered on a conscious level. In the next moment she had her pistol drawn, and she scanned for threats, seeing only... a drone?
storiesofmyown: (startled)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] storiesofmyown 2018-08-16 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
Seconds passed, then a minute. No fire, no screaming. Her hip hurt where she'd landed on it. Her pulse raced, and though she knew what she wouldn't see, Martha took another twenty seconds to open her eyes.

When she did, as she'd expected, she saw nothing but a few people staring at her and a woman across the room looking around frantically with a gun drawn.

Sighing shakily, Martha stood and moved slowly toward the blonde. "It's all right. I... thought I saw something. But it's not what I thought. I'm really sorry I scared you, too."
meredevachon: (cassie)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] meredevachon 2018-08-16 07:22 pm (UTC)(link)
When the expected threat turned out to be nothing, Cassie stood, holstering her gun, but not securing the strap yet. "No. It's... all right. It's understandable, being a little jumpy finding ourselves somewhere, somewhen else suddenly." Or at least not the where and when Cassie meant to suddenly be.

She offered the other woman her hand. "Dr. Cassandra Railly. Or Cassie, if you prefer."
geniusmind: (Default)

Re: Dr. Martha Jones | Doctor Who

[personal profile] geniusmind 2018-08-17 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
Dark eyes narrowed, trying not to laugh at the woman who was yelling for cover. After everything he'd seen working for Torchwood, that was the only reason he didn't laugh at her. He knew. He'd seen all the hell that they had been through, oh yes. Slowly, the man moved over to one of the walls and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

She looked different. Younger. Tired, maybe? He wasn't sure. Something about her sure seemed off.

"Eh, Jones! You're fine. It's not gonna get ya." Unlike the others on the ship, Owen would have no recollection of the year that never was. Not even a dream in his memory. If he had, maybe he'd have ducked too. "Would ya get up, Martha? Geez."