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raisednpcs) wrote in
cracktheearth2015-10-17 09:42 pm
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Entry tags:
Fall 2015 Test Drive
Hello, and welcome to the test drive for Fall, 2015! Similar to last time, one of our test drive prompts is the same as an event presently going on in the game! And that's not all; both players in the game and out of it can treat everything that happens with these prompts as canon to the game, and that they happened concurrently with what's going on on the main community. So, if you're looking to apply to Raise the Earth, here's a chance to get in on the ground floor of what's happening in-game!
[A - Factor Industries Charity Event]
Even for Benjamin Factor, arranging this charity event had been something of a challenge. Just as he held great influence in Gateway City, Thunder Corp's influence in Locke was great as well. But with time and money, all things were indeed possible in this case, and the Memorial Dance Hall was playing host to the night's events. It was a glamorous affair: politicians, captains of business, dignitaries, and celebrities had been invited. For whatever controversy that existed, the world legitimately wanted to heal the wounds left by the invasion, and that meant there were a lot of people who wanted to use events like this to either advance that cause, or to make themselves look good.
But they weren't the only sorts of individuals who had received an invitation.
Benjamin Factor had also made it so the Numbered would be invited to his little party. Arrivals through the teleporter would be greeted by drivers at the community center, and the same courtesy was extended to anyone who might live in Locke. The only stipulation? Was that anyone who came make an effort to make themselves presentable. If that was a problem, or anyone arrived without knowing, they had clothes on hand for people to change into.
Indeed, it seemed that the Numbered would be well provided for tonight. That being said, their presence would get people to talk, given the presence of news crews making live coverage. Nevertheless... "getting people to talk" seemed to be exactly what Benjamin Factor wanted to happen.
[This prompt is the same as this current event. You can have your character start a general mingle thread, but we ask that your character not serve as an event speaker for the test drive, as that's a rule best suited to characters already in the game.]
[B - Pest Control]
Beta testing. "A trial of machinery, software, or other products, in the final stages of its development, carried out by a party unconnected with its development." A crucial, important step in ironing out the "kinks" in something, to ensure it's ready for whatever it has been designed to do.
In the last weeks of October, someone is beta testing. Just what are they testing, you might wonder? Diminutive little robots with powerful, fangy jaws. They appear to be designed for pest control, and their hardware includes tracking software. Indeed, they're apparently being deployed in secret, acting autonomously in Gateway City, Locke City, Woodend, Christchurch, Tokyo, and even Shepherd's Haven. No one would see who is setting them loose, beyond nondescript men and women who disappear as quickly as they first emerged.
The robots are autonomous. They seek out their prey with zeal, without being controlled by a central source. Alone, a single machine is far from a threat, but they have been loosed in sizable groups, making them fairly dangerous. And it seems there's a bug: all animals are targets for these things, and they're not all. It seems they're capable of identifying another, more unique target: Anyone who might be Numbered.
[C - Sudden Storm]
Rain wasn’t planned today. The forecast had called for sun and minimal clouds, and a warm breeze. Instead, the falling drops seem to sparkle in the sunlight peeking through the clouds. Out a window, strolling down the street, sitting at a bus stop, it’s hard not to feel the drops coming down. And should you stop to stare at the rain for a bit, something seems to shift. A hollow feeling, a certain vertigo, that passes in a moment.
As it clears, something changes. A new memory, from a life that isn’t familiar and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense; a tingling at your fingertips of some new energy; a certain knowledge of the world that shocks you with the new information it provides; something in your hands you weren’t holding before. Maybe you’ve already had an Echo somehow, and you recognize the feeling; maybe you haven’t, and it brings back memories of the people talking about “pulses” on TV, what seems like forever ago. If the latter’s true, the fading sense leaves behind a number, that seems to worm its way into your mind and not leave. Does this mean… you’re Numbered, now?
[D - Network]
The number stuck in your head refuses to go away, so to work it out of your system, you decide writing it down on something is a good idea. Maybe you punched it into your phone; perhaps it’s on a piece of paper, or a mirror, or almost anything else.
The thing it’s on comes alive, filling with text and images. None of it was there before, and you can interact with it. Hundreds, maybe thousands of posts, all tagged with a number that looks similar to your own. Tales of fighting, of betrayal, of loss and sacrifice; stories of heroism, of gain, of victory and the elation attached. Questions about life, about the network, about the future of the Numbered. Idle conversation, videos of stupid things. Three years of history, from the beginning to the original incident on April 1, 2013, through to today.
You could add something. Clearly, it need not be profound, and if you don’t put a name, a face, or a voice to your number, nobody would ever know it’s you. It’s there, at your fingertips. What would you say…?
[E - Wild Card]
Don’t feel pressured to stick to our prompts - you’re welcome to do whatever strikes you. Lighthearted, serious, dangerous, mundane, spectacular… Raise the Earth is a game designed around everyday life getting a lot more interesting in a hurry. Play around with things!
[A - Factor Industries Charity Event]
Even for Benjamin Factor, arranging this charity event had been something of a challenge. Just as he held great influence in Gateway City, Thunder Corp's influence in Locke was great as well. But with time and money, all things were indeed possible in this case, and the Memorial Dance Hall was playing host to the night's events. It was a glamorous affair: politicians, captains of business, dignitaries, and celebrities had been invited. For whatever controversy that existed, the world legitimately wanted to heal the wounds left by the invasion, and that meant there were a lot of people who wanted to use events like this to either advance that cause, or to make themselves look good.
But they weren't the only sorts of individuals who had received an invitation.
Benjamin Factor had also made it so the Numbered would be invited to his little party. Arrivals through the teleporter would be greeted by drivers at the community center, and the same courtesy was extended to anyone who might live in Locke. The only stipulation? Was that anyone who came make an effort to make themselves presentable. If that was a problem, or anyone arrived without knowing, they had clothes on hand for people to change into.
Indeed, it seemed that the Numbered would be well provided for tonight. That being said, their presence would get people to talk, given the presence of news crews making live coverage. Nevertheless... "getting people to talk" seemed to be exactly what Benjamin Factor wanted to happen.
[This prompt is the same as this current event. You can have your character start a general mingle thread, but we ask that your character not serve as an event speaker for the test drive, as that's a rule best suited to characters already in the game.]
[B - Pest Control]
Beta testing. "A trial of machinery, software, or other products, in the final stages of its development, carried out by a party unconnected with its development." A crucial, important step in ironing out the "kinks" in something, to ensure it's ready for whatever it has been designed to do.
In the last weeks of October, someone is beta testing. Just what are they testing, you might wonder? Diminutive little robots with powerful, fangy jaws. They appear to be designed for pest control, and their hardware includes tracking software. Indeed, they're apparently being deployed in secret, acting autonomously in Gateway City, Locke City, Woodend, Christchurch, Tokyo, and even Shepherd's Haven. No one would see who is setting them loose, beyond nondescript men and women who disappear as quickly as they first emerged.
The robots are autonomous. They seek out their prey with zeal, without being controlled by a central source. Alone, a single machine is far from a threat, but they have been loosed in sizable groups, making them fairly dangerous. And it seems there's a bug: all animals are targets for these things, and they're not all. It seems they're capable of identifying another, more unique target: Anyone who might be Numbered.
[C - Sudden Storm]
Rain wasn’t planned today. The forecast had called for sun and minimal clouds, and a warm breeze. Instead, the falling drops seem to sparkle in the sunlight peeking through the clouds. Out a window, strolling down the street, sitting at a bus stop, it’s hard not to feel the drops coming down. And should you stop to stare at the rain for a bit, something seems to shift. A hollow feeling, a certain vertigo, that passes in a moment.
As it clears, something changes. A new memory, from a life that isn’t familiar and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense; a tingling at your fingertips of some new energy; a certain knowledge of the world that shocks you with the new information it provides; something in your hands you weren’t holding before. Maybe you’ve already had an Echo somehow, and you recognize the feeling; maybe you haven’t, and it brings back memories of the people talking about “pulses” on TV, what seems like forever ago. If the latter’s true, the fading sense leaves behind a number, that seems to worm its way into your mind and not leave. Does this mean… you’re Numbered, now?
[D - Network]
The number stuck in your head refuses to go away, so to work it out of your system, you decide writing it down on something is a good idea. Maybe you punched it into your phone; perhaps it’s on a piece of paper, or a mirror, or almost anything else.
The thing it’s on comes alive, filling with text and images. None of it was there before, and you can interact with it. Hundreds, maybe thousands of posts, all tagged with a number that looks similar to your own. Tales of fighting, of betrayal, of loss and sacrifice; stories of heroism, of gain, of victory and the elation attached. Questions about life, about the network, about the future of the Numbered. Idle conversation, videos of stupid things. Three years of history, from the beginning to the original incident on April 1, 2013, through to today.
You could add something. Clearly, it need not be profound, and if you don’t put a name, a face, or a voice to your number, nobody would ever know it’s you. It’s there, at your fingertips. What would you say…?
[E - Wild Card]
Don’t feel pressured to stick to our prompts - you’re welcome to do whatever strikes you. Lighthearted, serious, dangerous, mundane, spectacular… Raise the Earth is a game designed around everyday life getting a lot more interesting in a hurry. Play around with things!
NPC Requests!
Do that, and the mods will come along shortly to help you out. Also note that we might pop in to help you along ourselves!
Kevin Steele :: Chrono Harlaown (Lyrical Nanoha)
While he'd been sharply less active on the Numbered scene lately, Kevin is at the benefit event for the same reason certain others are: he's in a position of some minor power. Namely, he's an FBI agent, which would get him in the door anyway. A combination of the two is why he's here, looking a little less dark and brooding than the last time he'd showed up at a function like this. Some of the faces have changed, but by and large, he knows how a Numbered event looks, even if it's got some big names from the more normal world that have him on edge. The suit and tie aren't terribly out of place on him, and he largely looks the same as he did two years ago, the last time he was terribly active. Maybe the bags under his eyes are more pronounced, his stance is a little less open, but it's still Kevin.
For his own part, he's people watching at the moment. There are familiar faces that he remembers from the old days, but there are also people he recognizes from things outside the network. And then there are new folks that he'll probably want to make the acquaintance of at some point. Par for the course, really. A sharp, wandering eye keeps tabs on the room, scanning for signs of trouble, but the Numbered have enough combat presence that he suspects any issues that do crop up will sort themselves out before his concealed sidearm gets past the top of his breast pocket.
After a little bit of mingling, Kevin makes his way over to the refreshments; being more or less on the clock for this, he can't drink, so he settles for a bottle of water snatched from somewhere or other. He addresses the bottle with a brief scowl before he downs half of it in one go, closing it again and sighing. "Aren't there other guys on the team that stick out less than I do?" He settles into a chair heavily with some mild frustration, looking out over the crowd and letting his expression fade to something a little more neutral. Ideally, nothing will go wrong. But if it does... that's why Durandal's storage form is in the other pocket.
[Kevin is returning from Save the Earth, so he's got a couple Echoes up his sleeve already, but he's really not much further than a new character, plus he's been gone for a while. I'm good for other shenanigans at the benefit function or more or less whatever else!]
Nicodemus Jewell/Izaya Orihara | Durarara!!
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Jason East - Barry Allen | The Flash
Isn't this supposed to be a fancy party? It's pretty certain that there was a dress code mentioned in the invitations, formal wear at the very least. ... So if that's the case, then how the heck did this guy get in?
Jason is currently taking up space by the big buffet table with... well, for starters an entire serving plate full of sandwiches in his hand with some extra snacks piled up on top, all of which are vanishing into his mouth one by one at a rather astonishing pace. He's also apparently opted to show up to the fancy party in blue jeans, sneakers and a red hoodie.
"Party's kinda slow, huh?" He'll remark to anybody who happens to wander up to him, grinning around a mouthful of sandwich. "Food's good though."
D.
[The young man appears on the network in what appears to be a simple backyard, adjusting a camera before stepping back with a smile. In his hands he holds three simple tennis balls, raising them up to the camera.]
Hey, guys, you like juggling?
[And without waiting for an answer of any kind he'll... begin juggling. Pretty simple at first, nothing special. After a few moments, he sighs, shrugging at the camera.]
Ah, this is actually pretty boring, huh? Okay... wait a second.
[And suddenly he tosses all three balls into the air and just... vanishes from the frame, leaving for a split second before returning into frame wearing a different shirt. And drinking a Red Bull in one hand. The other becomes a blur of motion, juggling all three tennis balls on its own, even faster than before.
After a second of that, he looks at the camera again and raises his eyebrows at the camera with a grin.]
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Ronnie Raymond | The Flash
Life is sometimes hard when you're a big shot football player. You get stuck at press events or autograph signings when you'd really rather be doing anything else.
Then, you get to wish that you were stuck at a press event or an autograph signing, because now you're being pursued through the streets of Gateway City by crazed killer anklebiting robots. Ronnie's just glad he's in shape, or else this would be a really short run.
"Get outta the way, outta the way!" he's yelling at anyone who might be ahead of him on the sidewalk. He plays football--he's confident he could bowl over anyone in his way--but that doesn't mean he wants to. Sure, the crazy robots seem to be unusually focused on him to the point of ignoring everything else, but he doesn't want to think about what might happen if he knocks someone over and the robots decide to chew up a weakened target.
He's feeling hot. Really hot. And a weird sort of tug in another direction, so he's just going to keep right on running that way and hope for the best.
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Nanoha Takamachi | Natalie Tamura | Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha
Natalie is at the same time in her element and severely out of it. After all, she'd been to large gatherings of Numbered before - but at the same time, this is much broader. Much larger. It isn't just about them, and they are fewer in Number than they once were. Even if she hadn't ... done much to keep people aware that she was still very much in their fold.
It seemed a bit deceitful, if she stood and thought about it for a little while. Yet, at the same time, perhaps that came with her territory now. It was all for a reason, and that was all towards working with one Kevin Steele and the FBI to hopefully be able to help everyone else in the long run. That was her hope, at least. It was a hope she'd been given after so long of things falling apart around her, and she'd be damned if she didn't stick with it.
Which brings her to tonight, where she'd arrived - as has one particular comrade in arms - to do a little digging. And also maybe feel kind of good about herself, as she's wearing a rather nice looking pink dress, and honestly has been "hiding" for so long that it feels good to stretch her legs. Get out in the open.
And talk!
She will talk your ear off, honestly. She can't exactly say much about what she's been doing, but what about you? What have you been up to? She really wants to know, and not even for her job.
...okay.
Maybe a little bit for her job.
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Neal Hitt;; Robert Speedwagon | Jojo's bizarre adventures
Just breath. You could do this. This was far from his first time, he was a corporate man of course. There was still something about this time.... it made some part of him concerned that something may turn up wrong. Of course, there were Numbered here. Their name was, unfortunately, synonymous with trouble for a year or so now.
Still, he would swallow that fear. He'd go around, shaking the right hands, always flashing an honest smile while he made his own donation to the cause. It was fine.
What else would a sponsor of Thundercorp do?
B: Snap! This was what he got for getting a hand to close to one of those robotic creatures skittering about recently. It seemed as though they were filling the streets of Gatewater.
"G-gaaah! Bloody hell!" Skipping out of the way, in a very non-manly fashion, he watched from a safe(ish) distance as the robotic trapper was joined by several others of its kind, which apparently already caught some prey, judging by the tail limply hanging off of a metal lip.
"...yeesh." Yeah.... that, that was a little unnerving.
D: Exactly what he didn't need in the morning was an impromptu video chat.
From his bathroom mirror.
That toothbrush in his hand? Yeah, that's now hanging from his open mouth before falling out completely and clattering into the sink as words form.
"...Oh. So that's what it does." Gulp. "Uh oh..."
A
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Yang Xiao Long - Yang Líu (reincarnation) - OTA
Being a vagabond, the teleportation network was something Yang was ever eager to take advantage of. She was always looking for her next fight, and everywhere she went, she always managed to find someone willing to throw down. And now... her search had brought her to Locke, the place where it all started.
But she didn't find human opponents this time. She found a horde of small, tiny, chomping robots. And as far as Yang was concerned, this was much better than dealing with sawed off punks and fighters who thought they could make a name by beating her up.
Of course, she was doing it in the middle of the street, in the dead of night, not caring at all about the racket she was making. The robots were proving to be rather... disappointing, as they ended up crumbling easily under her punches. At least, that's what she thought at first, until they started to overwhelm her by numbers.
"HRRGH!" Yang cried as several of the biting mechanoids' teeth clamped down on her limbs. She tore them off, the power she knew to be her "semblance" keeping them from drawing blood for now. But she still felt pain. And that pain made her stronger.
She had to get them off of her. Put some distance. Yang grit her teeth, and slammed her gauntlet covered fist into the ground, cracking the pavement and creating a shock wave that sent the little biters flying.
As the robots began to rise up and gather around her again, Yang smirked, pounding her fist into her open palm. "Okay, fangs for the fight, guys. Are you ready for round two?"
[D] - VIDEO
[An image comes up, revealing a young woman. She looks a bit rough around the edges, and her surroundings show she's not exactly living in a "high rent" apartment: the wallpaper is peeling, there's a visible sink, and it's noticeably small. Her clothes look like the sort of stuff one would wear to a gym, with a tank top, shorts, and partially unwound dirty athletic tape on her arms. There are traces of scars and bruises on her arms and legs.
The woman leans in and stares at the "screen", knocking at it a few times before beginning to speak.]
... Huh. Guess I gotta do something before anything gets through. That makes sense. So uh... hey. Name's Yang. Yang Líu. I feel a bit silly talking to a mirror, but I guess that'll go away if I reflect on it.
[She snickers at her dumb joke, before leaning back on the bed she's sitting on.]
So, I guess it's time I came out as a Numbered. I mean, I'm not saying any of you know me, unless some of you frequent random underground fights. But... well, there's no reason to stay hidden, right? Its not like I'm ashamed or anything.
[Yang crosses her legs, and sighs.]
Anyway, I was just wondering if anyone was seeing any action lately. The kind of stuff I've been getting into has gotten a bit... boring since I discovered I had powers, so. I'm wondering if there's anything work sinking my teeth into.
[The grin she shows at that is a bit eager, and dangerous looking.]
Really, just give me something to throw a punch at. I've heard all about these monsters everywhere, so I figure there's gotta be something, right?
[E] - ACTION
Some people saw the scarred wasteland that was the western United States as a tragedy. Others saw it as a problem that needed to be contained. Others saw it as a grim reminder of failure and loss.
Yang Líu saw it as an opportunity.
She'd started out of New Los Angeles. There was no shortage of opponents to be had there. There were enough n'ere-do-wells for someone who was looking for trouble to take care of. But... everyday criminals weren't enough to satisfy the fire burning in Yang's heart, and even then they were just a stepping stone to get the resources she needed for her excursion outside of the city.
Smirking to herself, she took out her phone, and left a quick message to the network. "Hey, it's Yang. The crazy girl looking for people to fight? Well, I hear there's a lot of freaky stuff in the western US. Guess who's going to kick its ass. I'm heading out of New LA to see what I can find."
Yang smirked, and stuffed her phone into her knapsack. And... she started walking. Walking until her surroundings gave way to wide, open areas or burned, gnarled forests. She walked until her legs felt like they might go out, and she walked some more.
Eventually, though, she had to stop and make camp. She knew how to do that at least. After making the fire and starting to cook some beans, she sat there, with a frown on her face. No adventure yet, no battles, just... pain, weariness, and frustration.
She took out her phone, which still hard charge left and sent another network message:
"Adventure is overrated."
[ooc - replies to either of Yang's network posts in this prompt are okay, but keep in mind I'll be responding in prose. Someone getting in her way or looking into the person shaking down criminals for supplies and money before she leaves New LA is fine too.]
D
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Black Jack || Hachirou Kurosawa (Reincarnation)
Hachirou would wonder, at a later time, why he even came to this event. Since he had been doing his best to try and keep the fact he is a Numbered under wraps, and yet he was invited. So the young man, dressed as nicely as he can (which consisted of a black dress shirt and slacks) had taken the teleporter and such was at the event.
And mostly keeping to himself, although with the half white hair he may stand out from the more normal attendees. But probably not any of the other Numbered, which he was almost pointedly avoiding going near.
[B]
Another late night, another coffee run. Well no, it was more like Hachirou was grabbing one on his way back from a late class, which isn't unusual for him. What was unusual this night was the fact that there are tiny munching robots about, and hey they found a nice target. Who isn't all there at the moment, damn going too long without sleeping due to deadlines for lessons.
So it's no surprise that he's taken by surprise when one of the machines lunges at him, the only saving grace he has is catching the brief glimpse of metal, and with a shout he just manages to avoid having a hunk of leg taken by the creature. Of course he also loses his coffee, having dropped it.
Well more like threw it at his attacker. With a "Dammit" muttered under his breath, Hachirou is going to try to get away.
Or find an area where he can not get chomped on.
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micah kelly (mello; death note) | option d; network
He's not stupid. It doesn't take a genius to puzzle out what the sudden appearance of this overwhelming database of information signifies; it's certainly not some hidden phone app he's just unlocked. Micah takes his time scrolling through, reading, watching, processing information as best he can. There's a lot to sort through, and he's exhausted by the time he decides he's had enough, brain overly full to bursting. He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn't. This isn't actually funny. Not at all.
He could try to hide this, of course. But somehow, something as significant as this bound to come out, and anyway, hiding has never really been Micah's style. He'd much rather meet this challenge head-on.
Micah doesn't hide his face, doesn't tilt the camera away from the scar that covers the left side. His chin tips up to whoever's watching, a nonverbal dare, see me, acknowledge me. Then, he speaks:]
So. I guess I'm one of you now. [He smiles, thin, grim. It's not a sort of belonging that pleases him, not at all, and it comes out in the tautness of his voice, the flicker of anger behind the sharpness of his gaze.] Where do I go to pick up my membership card?
Voice
video forever :')
Voice forever. (Probably)
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/whoops switching to Private now
private.
perma-private
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[Audio]
video forever for this loser
[Audio, but might change...]
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pretend that didn't happen
i saw nothing c8
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cw domestic + child abuse
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video;
video;
video; - [sorry for the delay]
video; - [nooooo worries!]
video;
video;