test drive | 1

[unplug]

test drive

Welcome to the first test drive for Systemwide! We are excited to have you. All prospective players are welcome to tag in and test out their characters, be they unplugged or free born. We would like to offer a range of scenarios that can be expected during gameplay, which are also useable prompts for app samples, and of course, if something else about the setting strikes you, feel free to come up with your own!

Please put your character name and canon in your subject line, and indicate which prompt you are launching from.

simulation | maybe this is your first time. perhaps you've been here countless times. it's a room, as confined as a boxing ring, as expansive as a battle field, whatever you need it to be, whatever you're here to train for.

1.

Before you is a city of rooftops, empty of human life. This is a safe place, because while it may hurt you, at least it won't kill you. Perhaps you are practicing your influence over reality, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Are you successful, or are you failing to free your mind? Perhaps you're helping someone else overcome their fear of heights.

And of course, an operator can always load up some Agent-like training programs to make it interesting.

2.

Congratulations, you know kung-fu, or maybe some other system of combat, like crazy parkour archery, cartwheeling with guns, or sword fighting on horse back. Perhaps you're trying out something even more fantastic, a magical skill or a superpower.

Show me. Or a friend.

mission | whether on board a ship or with your mind sunk deep into a Matrix, you will have to join the battle eventually. sometimes things go terribly wrong. what are you gonna do about it?

3.

Something's gone wrong with this extraction.

There's a lot of information to process. Your target's been extracted, and that's the good news -- your ship, in reality, is heading to their location now -- but the bad news is your team has been scattered. You could be anywhere within this Matrix, deep in the jungle, or lost on a subway train, or staggering out of the crashing waves of a night time beach, and the operator needs a minute to figure out your exact location before they can direct you to a port out of here, or send another operative to collect you.

All you have to do is stay alive for that long. Easy, right?

4.

You were warned of this. You've been prepared in endless simulations, with a dozen cautionary tales, training sessions with the EMP. Still, it's nothing like you imagined, when the operator shouts: "Sentinel closing in at seven o' clock. It's gaining."

And then the shriek of metal.

reality | as much as many Matrixes are designed to be a comfort, you have to face the real world sometime. or maybe this is the world you have only ever known.

5.

Annual celebrations are rare to come by, but the anniversary of Neo's Truce is one that always draws in the crowd. The event takes place in a massive cavern in Zion known as the Temple, and there is music, and there is dancing [a little NSFW].

Everyone is there.

Where are you?

6.

The wind on your face, up here on the desolate surface, tastes bitter, different to what it feels like in a simulated reality. It's freezing cold and always dark, but sometimes, you need a reminder about what it is you're fighting for. Or maybe you're seeing the wasteland of Earth for the first time.

Either way, you shouldn't be out here for too long. The machines might find you.

wildcard | choose your own adventure.

7.

Perhaps you're riding with the Dothraki, or sitting under the Sorting Hat for the first time. Maybe the pleather bodysuit is pinching under your armpits as the traffic of the 90's roars by, or the Nova Empire's sprawling city glitters, towering above you. Maybe you're showing someone around the place you called home for your entire fictional life.

Or perhaps it's nothing as fantastical as that: the Council meeting droned on for two hours, and you're just happy to be home, even if it's a tiny enclosure with rust-edged furniture. Maybe someone's coming over for lunch, and there are real greens in the protein slurry today; maybe you're about to ask to join a crew.

There are infinite worlds to explore, but try to remember that only one of them is real.

Comments

[mrsnippy]

Giant, shark-toothed caterpillars, twisted whales, things with too many legs that still sounded human... There were a lot of mutagenic bombs dropped in the war. I just ran whenever I saw something that didn't move right.

[He falls silent, his eyes drifting over the landscape in front of them. The world looked dead, but he knew, or at least he believed he knew, based on the lie he'd been trapped in, that life was more tenacious than mere humans could extinguish]

I wonder what the animals left up here have turned into by now. There's got to be something left.

[mrsnippy]

In that moment as Captain toppled Snippy's eyes went owl-wide as well. After all these years, after all the provocation and outright cruelty he'd endured, he'd finally managed to smack the bastard right in the face... he'd have whooped if he'd not been frozen in shock. Even Captain's kittenish weakness hadn't completely convinced the paranoid part of Snippy's brain that his companion was just another normal human.

"What did you just stick in my head?!" He yelled as soon as he became unstuck from his shock. He was louder than he'd normally be inclined to be, but the stares from his coworkers felt a little too judging, so he wanted to make sure they could hear that he was justified. "G-dammit, that's a port into my brain, you could have killed me!"

Jack Sparrow | those movies about pirates

[pistolproof]

[ jumping simulation ]

Jump? [ His eyebrow is raised in disbelief as he takes in their current surroundings as well as the very large drop he is to be subject to when if he fails. ] You want me to jump?

[ He's been through something like this very recently, a trust/fall like exercise, with a gun to his head, trusting he wouldn't die when he falls. He'd made it, because of course he had, but that was because there was water at the bottom, and because the fall was not nearly as high as this one was. This time around, instead of water there is the very hard ground, instead of jumping to his possible death, he is...

Well, he still might be jumping to his possible death. But he is trying to jump across this time, not down. This time, there is no way to reassure him that he'll make the jump. And so he remains skeptical because, under normal circumstances, this is not a jump he would ever attempt to make. ]

[ fighting simulation ]

[ Jack already knows how to fight. He already knows how to use a sword, how to use a gun, because that's the type of thing you need to know when you choose a life of piracy. And, he supposes, it'll come in handy in the real world, if they're going to be fighting for their lives.

And while he's spent most of his time fighting in the Matrix, he's never fought in the Matrix before. He's wearing loose clothes, because that's what he's comfortable in, that's what he's used to wearing while fighting. This sword is longer than the usual standard, because Jack is always much better at long range weapons than he is with short range.

His body is tense and alert, waiting for his opponent to strike. Except, well, Jack doesn't have very much patience and it's not long before he charges forward, sword slicing through the air. ]

[ reality ]

[ Jack doesn't often feel out of place, but it's not all that hard for him to admit that he's just a little bit way out of his league, here. It was the 1740s last he known, and when he'd been unplugged and woken up, he'd been told the year was something like 2200 and culture shock is not a strong enough word for what he's feeling.

And so, for the first few days, he keeps away from all the machines and technology because, knowing his luck, the first he touched would bring the whole thing crashing down upon him.

The food is bland and tasteless, but that's nothing he's unaccustomed to. What he's not unaccustomed to is the lack of alcohol. He might not be an alcoholic in the real world, not when it was all in his head, but he that doesn't stop him from having a desperate need for alcohol in his system. ]

Oi, [ he says as he slides up to the nearest person. ] You wouldn't happen to know where the rum is, would you? [ He narrows his eyes. He'll even do with alcoholic beverages that aren't rum, this time around. ]

[systemwizard]

Captain made a noise that couldn't (nor shouldn't) be translated, patting delicately at their jaw. It was already turning a very angry colour, though the lumbering human seemed more bemused than angry. They felt their way upright, sitting forward into Snippy's stabbing finger before he went on to gesticulate about brain-matter, still patting their jaw, ignoring the rant.

(Snippy was mostly top notch when one muted his voice, after all.)

"You have bested me in mortal combat," Captain mused, patting turning into explorative jabbing. Yes, that hurt. Yes, that did hurt. Yes, that hurt. That hurt quite a lot. Well, though it was unexpected, they'd always expected great and miraculous things from Snippy. Look at him go, still ready to combust on command. Captain beamed up at the other human, then raised both massive hands wide. "You have bested me in mortal combat! I GRANT THEE THREE WISHES!"

[mrsnippy]

"You can't grant wishes any more, we're not in the Matrix!"

His joy was curdling, because his knuckles had started to throb, but despite using all the strength he had, his point hadn't made it through Captain's thick skull. He swallowed against his anger, realising that he could hit Captain again, he could push Captain down and get his boots in as much as he wanted and that wouldn't change the sunny, cracked grin on Captain's face. That unrelenting, undentable wall between the world and Captain's twisted perception made him feel helpless and angry and no amount of yelling was going to make anything better.

He turned away, pacing tightly as his brows clenched and his mouth worked.

"Okay, you know what, I do have three wishes: One, don't poke things in my ports. Actually, make that don't poke me with anything ever. Two, stop yelling all the time; use your indoor voice. And three, stop running around and getting into trouble and then getting me in trouble because everyone knows you're the albatross about my neck."

[repetitio]

People like them, bankers in stuffy suits, hipsters and punks and old white men, large Indian population — it's large, and it's diverse.

[ she steps forward to shake his hand. ] Rita Vrataski. [ perhaps not the most traditionally british of names. ]

Your cube?

[systemwizard]

Captain watched the pacing with a wry, glassy smile -- one that covered over the fact that their cheek was beginning to feel as though it was going to freeze fatly into a magnanimous grin. As Snippy spoke, they flung individual fingers up to categorize each wish.

"Such unfun wishes, Mr. Snippy! Pilot would have chosen something more challenging!" Meet Captain's stage whisper, which was still louder than an indoor voice, but which had the added benefit of sounding constantly conspiratorial. From now on, it was going to be a very annoying companion to the huge human's presence. "Consider your leetle metal scabbies friends with which I hold a loving and familial respect," however, addendum added with the gesture of a warning finger, "and as a loving familial governor, I declare Modesty Of The Ports days! Neglect punishable by threatening pointing!"

Captain took their time considering Snippy's last wish, as it was a doozy. "The last wish is three more wishes, my minion, and so is declared invalid! Now help me from my place on the floor and put back together my mug!!"

[mrsnippy]

Charles glared down at Captain. His knuckles were starting to throb pretty badly, and though Captain's expression wouldn't make anyone think he actually punched that hard, he could still see the bruise swelling.

But Captain made concessions. Terrible concessions, concessions that Charles shouldn't even have to ask to be concessions, but Captain had agreed to some of his demands for now.

"You're still too loud." He groused, flexing his hand. Forget about Captain's face, was he going to be able to work? He still needed to shove his hand into the hovercraft he was working on to retrieve his soldering iron. But first there was the matter of Captain's blasted replacement for Zee Mug.

"Your cup's too broken to fix." He crouched down to take a better look at the mess he was sure he was going to have to tidy up. "Look, half the splinters have fallen the grating already."

[systemwizard]

Captain turned a stern look on the shattered remains, waiting for some kind of alternate result. They took a stab at demanding pointing, but still the mug refused to come together, or to be anything other than the scattered remains of a poor quality replica. Waggling their finger impotently, Captain finally turned his gaze on Snippy. It was a look that the shorter human had been spared for much of their time together, but one that he might otherwise feel was familiar: keen study paired complacent patience. The Captain didn't have to say anything -- as per Snippy's true wish -- but they did discover something as the man looked about.

"Aha!" they boomed, forgetting themselves as they withdrew the straw from its catchment on the tines of the jack at the back of his head. Luckily, they slipped it in under the neckline of their uppermost layer as though it had never existed to begin with.

[mrsnippy]

[His shake was efficient and brief; he didn't trust himself to hold onto her for long, not when the years of isolation had left him craving human touch so badly. He wiped his hand on his hip once he let go, trying to rid it of its treacherous urge to grip her once more.]

Err, cubes, yes, I suppose we didn't have those until recently. They were mass-produced, self contained... think of them like city blocks sealed up so you could walk around without worrying about acid rainfalls. Why, what did you used to live in?

[mrsnippy]

Snippy swore at the tooth-jarring sensation of the straw being dragged out of his head port, cringing enough that he was too slow to react as Captain stuffed the strew away.

"Bwah, wha- a straw!?" A sudden deep pang of jealousy hit him, born from the days when Captain possessed the last non-radioactive straw they'd been able to find, then was replaced by a burst of irritation at something as stupid as being jealous over a straw.

But that still didn't mean Captain could keep the straw. That straw deserved to be broken for its role in ruining Snippy's day.

"Give that here!" He lurched towards Captain and grabbed at the neck of his shirt. "You're not having that if you're going to use it as a weapon!"

fighting simulation!

[punned]

[ Who ever knew that swords could be so fucking heavy.

Ellie is a scrawny, short little kid. She's strong for her petite size, and agile, and she knows how to handle pistols, rifles, bow and arrows, pocket knives and homemade explosives. But a sword? A sword that's over half the size of her in length, no less?

It's pretty fucking cool that the guy standing in front of her is a pirate, though. A real fucking pirate! But he's also a real fucking pirate who's holding a sword that's as sharp and probably as heavy as hers, and he seems to be wielding it with far more ease than she is. Means he proooobably knows how to handle that thing far better than Ellie does. ]

Unngh… [ She grunts quietly as she tries to hold it as steadily as the pirate is holding it. She shifts her hold on the hilt. Finds a point of balance with the sword in her hands. Okay. Okay, she's got this. All she has to do is just swing it, right? Swing it like she'd swing a machete, and that's all there is to it. Right? ]

Oh, shit-- [She gasps this in sudden surprise, eyes widening, as the pirate comes suddenly charging towards her, and Ellie takes a huge, overcompensating swing of the sword just as he's approaching - and finds herself unable to stop as the heavy inertia of the sword takes over and makes her lose balance. Causes her whole body to go swinging ungainly off to the left in a wide, stumbling arc. ]

Fuck.

[ochroma]

Sweet offer. Always had the feeling you'd make a decent S.O.

[ The not pushing didn't go unnoticed. Whether that was direct orders to let him prove himself and jump or lack of will on her part was hard to say. Certainly not lack of want, he suspected. But he hadn't been in the room for the conversation between her and their charming captain, and didn't have anyone to bribe to find out just what had been said yet. And, really, was it Captain or Captor? Who knew. Not him. And as it looked like Skye might just trust their new leader, seeing as she agreed to be here with him, the traitor, now? All the more reason to be on alert around the new brass. Skye was a sharp one, almost freakishly talented. Fast learner. But not always the best judge of character.

So he shifts his weight forward just a touch, more over the edge the edge now- then leans back, still safe and sound, then glances over at her from the corner of his eye. He'd said he wouldn't lie to her, and he wasn't lying now. But he'd never promised to make life easy.]

Good teacher and all.

reality

[punned]

[ Apparently, almost everyone hates the food here. Not Ellie.

Yeah, okay, it's kinda sloppy, kinda weird, but it's still food. Where Ellie is from, food is a precious luxury - if you live in one of the few remaining quarantine zones, you're lucky to get full rations on a good day. If you live outside the QZ, well… chances of survival are pretty much nil. After spending close to a year living off gamey meat (squirrels, rabbits, deer, sometimes even rats if things got really desperate) and never really knowing where the next meal was going to come from, Ellie isn't going to complain about slop on a plate.

And besides. Eating takes her mind of things she doesn't want to think about. Like the fact that Joel isn't here. If she fills her stomach with food, then maybe it'll drown out the nervous feeling of dread that keeps knotting her all up inside.

So, she's shovelling a forkful of food into her mouth and is about to directly follow that mouthful with a chomp out of a stale hunk of bread when the girl approaches Ellie. Asks if Ellie has seen her sister.

Mouth full, cheeks puffed out with food, Ellie slows her chewing and glances away awkwardly for a second before cutting her gaze back to the girl. Aw, fuck. Ellie knows that scared, worried look. That very look on the girl's face is exactly how Ellie feels inside. She's just good at not showing it.

She manages to swallow a small clump of food. Still has way too much in her mouth, though. ]

Uhhh. I haven't seen her. Or, well. I don't think I have, anyway. Sorry.

[ Is talking with her mouth full rude? Fuck if Ellie knows. She keeps chewing, swallows a bit more. Feels kinda bad for the girl.

She gingerly holds out the hunk of stale bread. Offering her food is better than not being able to help the poor girl at all. ]

You, uh. You want something to eat?

[hacker]

[ When the words come out of her mouth, she wasn't sure what she was hoping to achieve with them. Now that he's parried her snappish remarks, she can safely rule out 'banter' as the intended result. It only aggravates the already present bitterness she carries in her chest like a weight. Apparently, she wanted him spiteful and offended. Not getting that reaction irks her, so she folds her arms over her chest to better her self control, turning more fully towards him.

Her weight shifts, shoulders loose. Despite all the tension and loathing that she doesn't bother to hide from her expression—and there's a lot of it—her body language carries a notion of deliberate ease. That fearless swagger that May helped her develop. ]

Good. Not patient.

[ Clipped and dry, as ever. (No. Not ever. It didn't used to be like that. But then, depending on who you ask around here, none of that really counted.) She nods her head across to the next building. ]

Are you gonna jump or not?

[derfegertz]

The broad blonde was somewhere between startled and mystified by what was unfolding in front of her -- well, in front of her and within her grasp, that was. She'd stumbled to a halt in her spinning about the second revolution after Snippy appeared, realizing that in the manic din he was addressing her, but before she could sort out exactly what he meant the strange figure she'd been manhandling went off on another fantastical tangent.

The Captain was creeping up her list of strange people she'd met at dances like these.

To be fair, though, he was being complementary and Derfegertz was in a particularly good mood. "Well now that you've said so the magic's gone!" she exclaimed, and (with care) lowered those kicking feet back onto the dust-and-stone floor.

Taking quick advantage of the moment it might take the Captain to get their balance, Derfegertz shot a sunny smile at Snippy and assured him over the din of the dance, "not to worry, we've just been having fun!" What on earth kind of fellow would be such trouble that their friends assume they need a beating?

reality!

[punned]

[ Ellie is no stranger to the world being a wasteland. Back where she's from - or, well, the world she was apparently plugged into (she's still trying to wrap her head around all this Matrix shit, and she wishes Joel was around to help her understand it better, assuming he even would understand it) - her entire world is a wasteland, filled with disease, rot, destruction, people killing each other left and right, infected monsters trawling the land like lost beasts.

Not that Ellie knows any different. She knows her world used to be different, but she was born long after civilisation had already crumbled.

This wasteland here, though… It's fucking terrifying. It's so bleak. Not a shred of hope or beauty or anything seemingly worth fighting for in sight. It fills her with a roiling twist of despair that she couldn't put into words even if she wanted to. Makes her think about all those people who died because of her, people she cared about - what the fuck did their deaths even mean, what the fuck did her immunity to the parasitic fungus that's destroyed her world even mean if this is the world as it really is?

Ellie has been off crutches herself for maybe two weeks now. Her muscles are still weak but she's at least able to get around unassisted now. She's come up here to stare out at the world as it apparently really is because… Well, underneath the brave face she puts on, she's fucking terrified. She's alone, without Joel, the only person she trusts. And being down on that ship, with its narrow, dark corridors and bleak claustrophobia - she needs space, from people mostly.

When the woman on crutches appears, Ellie tenses up slightly, instinctively goes to reach into her pocket for her pocket knife, purely out of a sense of security - which of course isn't there. The woman seems pretty weak, though. Probably isn't a threat, or so Ellie hopes.

And so, she just looks away again, out at the devastating expanse of bleakness, chewing on her bottom lip - and glances sharply back to woman when she suddenly hears retching. Realises the woman is doubled over, vomiting. ]

Oh, fuck. [ Ellie says this with a kind of hushed concern, and she loiters on the spot uncertain what to do or how to help, if to help. ] Uh. Jeez. [ Her arms swing with a restless kind of nervousness at her sides before she wrings her hands together at her middle. Takes a hesitant half-step towards the woman. ]

Are... are you okay?

[ochroma]

I'll jump.

[ But not before watching her expression near painfully closely. She's saved his life even with the hate, had bargained to get his heart beating again when she hadn't believed a word he'd been saying. Frankly, he wasn't sure even a tiniest scrap of belief in him was there now, but he had a foundation, anyway. If she suspected this might actually kill him, he'd expect some reaction.

And maybe he'll just give her a moment to find it. In case these last few months apart had shifted her perspective slightly. Grant stretches the seconds for her to consider by turning around, his back to the ledge now, and slowly leaning back. If she doesn't grab the front of his shirt in the next couple seconds, gravity alone will be bringing him down.

Well, that, or him lunging forward. It was always good to have a plan B when it came to escape.]

[hacker]

[ Another cough has her bones rattle, shoulders heaving. It's a yak, really. All bile and cellulose-oatmeal. Skye dips her head down, leaning with the blow to her pride at the little kid who's come over. She could handle this better than Skye could. Maybe, though, maybe it's not her first time up here.

She drags her hand over her mouth, wiping the ropy threads of saliva away and looking up at the girl. Normally, she has hair to get out of the way, dark and wavy. It still takes some getting used to, not feeling the weight of it shift around. The buzzcut feels as surreal as any of it. ]

Yeah. [ Her smile is tight, shaky at best. She grabs onto one of her crutches and pulls herself back to her feet. ] Overexerted myself. [ Physical inability is easier to swallow than emotional. She's been physically inept before, run only when chased. ] God, they told me they usually only pull kids, but you're— [ Phew. She exhales, staggered a bit by it. ] What's your name?

Fara fa Edilion | OC | Silliness

[neverenstones]

(Mission :: 3 :: Closed)

It was hard to believe that Fara had once been a quibbling, quivering young noblewoman trapped in a bubble in a land of high magic and psionic oddities. After her extraction -- and months of training -- she had deigned to make good on the suggestion that she was an excellent candidate to help in the translation of humanoid minds from fantastic dream-worlds to the real. In some ways, coming from lands in which computers, technology, and AI had no concept was much harder than being yanked from worlds in which at least describing words could be found.

In some ways, it made the mind-boggling shifts of reality easier. For example, at this moment she was working with a team of other fighters in her home dream of Avengaea. This wasn't her first extraction, but she was by no means the ring-leader... or at least she hadn't been until their leader had dropped off their radar. Now it was up to Fara to communicate with the daemon populace in the same way that natives of more familiar matrixes might tap into phone networks: the variegated species sometimes dropped into fugues in which Operators could dump information on extraction points, which meant that those trained to understand daemon me's could simply follow the strains of gossip to make their objectives.

The network was coming up empty, however; either the asandus Agents had managed to dampen Operator commands, or they were all simply unlucky.

Whatever the case, Fara was sending out other pings: they might get lucky in another way, even if it was terribly risky. She had been hiding out with her team in an abandoned caetran bolt hole, in which a family of daemons had been making use of the lintels. "Find Kaitan," she'd said... well, it'd been more complicated than that, but even though it had been hammered into her head that one couldn't simply trust humans who were still plugged in, there were always exceptions to the rules. That was how she'd discovered that Avengaea was merely a dream, after all.

(Simulation :: 2 :: Open)

Fara isn't training to leap across roofs or to punch or kick people into submission. There are few enough people who have been freed from their various versions of the matrix that understand what facing down magic is that she has been called in to help. Where she's from, humans cannot perform magic as a daily part of their lives, but since she's been extracted Fara has had time and proclivity towards mastering the study. She has a good number of styles down by this point, and she wants to help pass that on.

"You see before you a number of different anchors: focuses to help bend reality." The dark-haired young woman is kneeling before a low table. On it, items as small as a wand or a set of stones are resting, up to the size of staves and other oddities. "These are just a sample. If you're here, it's because you want to learn to manipulate their worlds in a way that is acceptable and even required in some dreams. If you're looking to transfer to a ship that fights mainly for these waiting souls, you're going to need to learn to master the art. Luckily," she grins cheekily, "I'm here to help."

[punned]

[ Oh, jeez. If Joel was here, he'd tell her to stay back, let the lady sort herself out; probably tell Ellie it ain't any of their concern. But that's simply not in Ellie's nature, doesn't matter how much she deeply mistrusts people she doesn't know. And seeing people struggling, suffering, in pain, vulnerable - it sets Ellie's teeth on edge, makes her want to do something to help them.

What can she do to help, though? It's not like she's got any water on her, hasn't got anything to help the lady wipe the puke and the spit away. And so, she just watches with guarded concern. She lifts a hand, rubs her nose with the back of her knuckles in that unconsciously nervous way of hers when she's anxious or scared.

The tight smile the woman offers makes Ellie feel at least a slight bit of relief. She offers a tight half-smile in return, not quite friendly but not cold, either. ]

Ha. [A muted, humourless 'ha', there. ] Yeah. Happened to me, too, when I first… I dunno, 'woke up'. 'Got unplugged'. Whatever the fuck it's called. [ Hands come up briefly, give a small kind of dismissive wave as much to nonverbally say that she still doesn't understand any of that shit.

And then there's another small rub of her nose with the back of her hand before she drops her arms back to her sides with a small, listless, still nervous swing. She gestures to herself quickly with her hand. ]

Uh. Ellie. And… really? Kids? What, like me? 'Cause… I'm beginning to feel like I'm the only kid around here.

if i misread that btw let me know I THOUGHT HE WAS BACKING OFF THE EDGE IN A FALL-LIKE FASHION

[hacker]

[ Every time she's been faced with the chance to kill Ward, she's been too stupid, and weak, and— Giving in to Mike Peterson. Four bullets into his protective vest. They were mistakes. The first one cost Fitz everything, gave Ward the chance to drop him out of an airplane. God only knows what the second will do. What she's done since.

Maybe if she watches him flub it enough times here, she'll be able to desensitize herself from it. Distance herself. Maybe she won't screw it up next time.

But when he starts leaning back off the edge, that resolve leaves her mind. A thin hand darts out and grabs a fistful of his shirt. She doesn't stop at pulling him back onto the roof, but moves her body aside and throws him past her back onto the roof. It's all momentum; knowing her strength doesn't measure against his, that's what she has to use. ]

Are you out of your mind? [ The training program won't kill him. A real matrix would. It's not the first time she's seen Ward suicidal, though, and given what the real world blames like ... Well. A split second decision didn't really allow her time to weigh the pros and cons. ] What do you think happens if you die in the matrix? A body can't live without a mind. [ The shout gets caught in her throat, her own protective move sinking in. She drops her hand, stalks past him and turns back towards the gap. ] Jump; don't fall. Try taking it at a run.

Mission :: 3!

[kaitan]

The organic network that was the daemon communication system could be truly unreliable, often at the wrong moments. Bottlenecks or vital links in the chain could be asleep, or visiting family, or unexpectedly dead -- and there was no such thing as daemon IT, there to plug the holes and mend the gaps.

Still, there were times when it worked brilliantly, and especially so if a body knew how to listen in. After the events of the last year, Tunada had learned enough from Qensuna to be able to keep his ear to the ground deliberately, rather than passively taking part in the informational exchanges as most of his compatriots still did, and it had proven useful on a number of occasions. He thought he was getting fairly good with it, even if the experience of circumnavigating the "pay no mind to this" mes still engendered a kind of psychic discomfort in the blue daemon.

When today's gossip arrived through the grapevine on an evening walkabout, Tunada spent some time picking it apart. The usual dreck, of course, plus some interesting updates from the southern diaspora...

...but it was Kaitan's name that brought him up short, and then the confusing signature on that message that sent him leaping to his feet and dashing for his rider.

Soon enough they were out, riding madly for the hubs from whence the message had came. It was all careful layering and implication, but to a miniscule fragment of people -- exactly at whom she had been aiming the message at, no doubt -- it all resolved to suggest that the sender was someone who it patently couldn't be.

And Kaitan and Tunada both agreed that even if it wasn't Fara (and how could it be?), they had to find out who might be sending messages in her name.


It was hard to pinpoint the source, but they managed it. Soon enough the pair of them were circling a thin rock formation, tiny and unmarked on a map but home to a distant cousin lineage of the ubiquitous scaled daemons that skulked in Fensirt's bluffs. The way in was unclear, and there was a kind of silence that was, even for the desert, eerie. On high alert the pair circled again, but all the entrances they could spot were far too small for the pair of them.

nope you got it right!

[ochroma]

[ Grant doesn't offer even a token resistance. Even if his muscles tense in reflex at being grabbed and thrown, the urge the react is consciously suppressed. And he stays silent as as she snaps at him. The knew you cared that could have been shot out in return is firmly crushed under the heel of the idea there really were ways to die in the training level (useful info to have, all in all).

But while he many not say it, the god-awful smirk is forming on his face as he pivots on his toe some half dozen feet from the ledge, finally absorbing the momentum enough to turn and face her. There were still some absolutes in the universe, it looked like. Even if Earth itself hadn't turned out to be one of them.]

How about a demonstration?

[neverenstones]

As they were meant to be: Fara had chosen this outcropping of rock based on studies of the scans of the area that had been uploaded into all of their brains before going in, just in the event that this sort of separation might happen. Others might choose elsewhere to bolt to, but Fara knew just how awful going toe to toe against something many sizes larger than herself could be. Because all the caetran entrances had been collapsed, it meant that any Agents utilizing either their bodies or asandus ones were going to have to resort to magic... and Fara and her team were by this point well versed. Maybe not enough to fend off an Agent on equal turf, but at least enough to keep them alive for a little while longer.

When the daemon-human pair came scouting out, two of her team raised pebbles, psionically skilled as they'd proven to be, ready to send them spiraling through the brains and hearts of the suspected threats. Fara hissed a ceasefire, recognizing the shapes immediately.

She spoke first to Tunada, a terse chatter of me's that enfolded trust-locking mechanisms. It didn't always work to keep information out of the hands of the Agents, but it was more prone to work in those who were suggestible. There were layers of trust here that couldn't simply be programmed. Fara stepped out of the shadows a few moments later. "Kaitan," she bowed, lacking skirts to curtsy with.

Fara had changed in the time between when Kaitan had last seen her and now, and not simply because she'd been trapped in isolation against her will. Things were rather more complicated, and her expression reflected the terse nerves she was trying to hide between grateful appreciation and the stabbing pangs that she couldn't quite extricate. This Kaitan was still dreaming. That meant that she technically wasn't 'real'... and it meant that unless she was ready for it, she wasn't going to be more than a temporary help. That didn't mean that the younger woman didn't feel deeply about her... but those were all from a very vivid dream.

"Kaitan," she greeted. Fara was dressed in a simple Erysan travelling smock, the various blues of it already spattered with blood and red-orange dust. She had a sleek line and moved with a liquid certainty more effective than the bearer of the Everen Stones herself... it was impossible to hide that leap in self-confidence even under the stress of everything that had gone so wrong! "I know it's impossible that I'm out here, but I need you both to trust me: I've gotten myself and some friends into rather a lot of trouble and we need the utmost secrecy. I need your help again."