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

[hacker]

How can it taste like nothing? Like water?

[ Because even the water here tastes a little like something. Nutrient-enriched something. It's unsettling. Skye is skeptical, but she's not completely dismissing Dean's review. ]

Is that better or worse than tasting like bad something?

Cole | Dragon Age: Inquisition

[bigfloppyhat]

simulation.

[A boy (a young man, more like-- a man's frame, with the awkward, unsure movement of a boy) sits on the ledge of the roof of a skyscraper, peering down at the ant-sized people below. He seems undisturbed by the height, but it's difficult to tell exactly what he's thinking due to the gigantic-brimmed hat perched on his head. Swinging his feet, he stares intently, silent, until he hears someone join him there. You can almost sense him relax. When he speaks, his voice is gentle, light, but clearly perturbed.]

It's too quiet. All those people, and not one of them is there. They're not even spirits, not really. I can't hear them. Everything... echoes. Beeping and whistling, like birds, but wrong.

[His head tilts to the side, revealing a sliver of his face under all that hat-- pale, gaunt, spotted with teenage blemishes. Lank blonde hair hides his sunken eyes.]

Were they always this way? I can't remember...


reality.

[The surface is dark, cold, oppressive. Wrong, by every definition. Not at all the world he remembers. The realization that this is real, and that his world is not, squeezes his heart in his chest. It's a sensation distinctly unfamiliar to him, and a deeply unpleasant one.

But here he stands, staring at the sky, desperately trying to convince himself that any moment now, the heavy black clouds will part, and the Black City will appear above, and he'll know this is all just a terrible dream. Any minute now.]

If this is what it means to be real, then I take it back. I don't think that I want it at all.

reality

[bigfloppyhat]

[There is a hand on her back-- gentle, as though to comfort, but the fact that it just appears is startling enough. It belongs to a youth-- a teenage boy, really, lanky, taller than he has any right to be, like he's still growing into his shape. The barely-grown-in blond fuzz on his head declares him to be a recent rescue himself. How he managed to sneak up on Skye is anybody's guess.]

It's alright. Nobody else wants this, either. Everyone is hurting, wishing they were back. But we can't.

[...He says this like it's supposed to make her feel better. Look, he's trying!]

reality

[bigfloppyhat]

[A light puff of air escapes his lungs-- less a laugh than a constriction of his chest, as though it leaves of its own accord and takes his sternum down a bit with it. Fade, she says, even though she doesn't know what it means. Where we come from.]

Healing. I didn't know I was broken. [a pause, and his voice is smaller now.] I didn't know.

simulation

[bigfloppyhat]

[Suddenly, perched on the ledge of the building next to Dean, there's a teenager wearing an enormous hat. He's sitting casually, gently swinging his feet, as if it's the most natural thing in the world to be doing. How and when did he get there? Who can say? Maybe he's always been there. Were you looking for him, before?]

It can't hurt you, you know. It isn't even really there. You aren't really even there.

[Thank you, Cole, that was super helpful and not at all unsettling.]

simulation

[bigfloppyhat]

[Surprise, Peter-- you are not alone on that hill! Sitting next to him is a lanky teenaged boy, dressed in dirty leathers and a crazy big hat. You'd think you'd have noticed him before now, even with the headphones on, but apparently not. Or did he just appear there? Who can say!

The boy peers at Peter with sunken eyes, hidden behind stringy blond hair, before gently reaching over to carefully lift the headphones slightly away from his ear. Cole's head tilts, and he sounds like he's smiling, but it's kind of hard to tell.]

There's music in your head! Where does it come from?

reality

[lostsoldier]

[ Steve isn't alone. But he wouldn't be the first person to overlook the Winter Soldier when he didn't want to be found, and especially out here, perched among the rocks, bundled in drab layers, as colorless and still as the landscape around them. This bleak, freezing desert feels real to him in a way nothing else does — not the simulation, not the Matrix, not even the illusion of safety in Zion. Nowhere's safe. At least up here there's no pretending. And he likes the quiet. The solitude. The space to gather his thoughts.

Thoughts that free-fall out of his head the moment he catches sight of those skinny limbs settling in the dirt. His neck cranes to follow. He knows the set of those shoulders. The cut of that silhouette. His heart lodges in his throat.

(Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him...)

He could leave. Stealth doesn't come to him so easily yet as it once did; his limbs are slower and clumsier than he ever remembers them being, but he remembers how to be quiet, how to step lightly if not move swiftly. Twenty feet back to the manhole. He could make it. His mouth presses flat. His eyes keep flicking to those shivering shoulders.

Instead, after a soft rustle, a lump of fabric comes sailing over the ridge, landing in the dust a foot or two to Steve's left. His throwing arm isn't what it used to be.

It's a jacket. As in, Maybe you should put one on, Steve. ]

simulation;

[goesdown]

Scared?

[ Crowley is to, but you wouldn't know it by the sharp, pointed grin he gives Dean. He's not the sort of demon to just show all of his emotions. Of course, he's not any sort of demon, is he? Maybe that's why he's not as scared of the drop. What's more terrifying than losing everything you've spent hundreds of years building up? Compared to all of that, heights are like a cakewalk. ]

They should have just dangled a pie in front of you. I'm sure you'd jump for that.

[righteously]

[A frown tugs at his lips and he licks the empty fork again, shaking his head slowly. No, it didn't taste like water, he'd have said water. Hell, for that matter, do they even know what water really tastes like?

He shrugs unhelpfully.]

Neither, man, just-

[How do you even explain what mushy nothing tastes like? No seasonings, no... grill taste, no... nothing.

Instead of searching for the words, he just pushes the plate toward her a little.]

Try for yourself, see what I mean.

[righteously]

[The sudden voice at his side nearly startles him off the damn building. It has him jerking backward, arms coming out automatically as though to catch himself, even though he's headed in the opposite direction of the drop. Hard not to over-correct when the alternative's a fifty mile faceplant to splat town.

Rather than acknowledging that the sudden stranger has a point, he opts instead for a frustrated glare. Clearly, this guy's the source of all of his problems.]

Gee, thanks. That's very reassuring.

[Except it's not, because it all feels pretty damn real.

Like, impossibly real. Like the wind on his face, the way his heart races when he peers down, it's all... real. He's not so sure he's ready to let go of that.]

[echopraxia]

( anna - anya, as she had previously invited him to call her, too flint-eyed to convey the appropriate friendliness of the gesture - is only a few steps behind him, the accumulated scars and blemishes of ordinary life lived after zion melted to nothing by the way that she still sees herself, untouched and untouchable by time. in an abstract way, she hopes to find death as suddenly and violently as she began the life she never really lived; she searches her reflection each day for signs of age, and it unsettles her in ways that her pride will never let her put into words.

her hands are clasped behind her back, her hair pulled away from her face. she comes to stand beside him, all regal placidity, and eventually she says, )

And are you satisfied by it?

( without any particular expectation that he will answer her. )

[righteously]

[He huffs unhappily, shooting down Crowley's grin with an unimpressed look of his own. Not so big and bad here in the "real world", is he? Turns out he's not even a demon, just another jackass plugged into the system like the rest of them, and that makes things... weird. Complicated. Who the hell knows where Crowley's decisionmaking ended and the matrix's began?

All of which are thoughts he's not planning on chasing today, and instead he flicks his eyes toward the ledge before them.]

You do it then, jackass. Like it's so freakin' easy.

[hwic]

[ She looks down her nose at his motion of setting down his glass, at his insights, the look in her eye shading only a touch disappointed, but unsurprised. ]

Wedge.

[ Really. Okay, sure. ]

That may be so, but it looks to me like here is as good as it's likely to get in our lifetimes. [ She raises her cup to drink from, hesitates, and offers back; ] Regina.

[damnedest]

Oh, ma chérie, never that.

[ The corner of his mouth turn sharp, setting his gaze back towards the creeping spill of light over the oceanic edge of the world. ]

How far conceived is this fantasy. Do you think if we went to meet the sun, we would simply drop off.

[sfoils]

Yeah, Wedge. [ There's people running around with names that are just suffixes, yet it's the simple machine that gets side-eyed. ] 'Pilot' is a job description and ends up 'Antilles' was an archipelago.

[ Wedge picks up his empty glass, toasts with it. ] Nice to meet you, Regina. [ With their constant complaining, Wedge sometimes wonders why some people here choose to be unplugged. He gives them a pass because he knows they're mourning.

But it's still grating. ]

[polyphemus]

Well.

[ Bruce turns his attention back to the blasted landscape. Distant thunderclaps shiver through the air. It really is a horrible sight, and he's gotten inoculated against it over the same period of time it took for him to get scruffy again, and longer still. It still strikes him, though, when he lets it. ]

A lot of people are gonna say it doesn't matter, what you've gone through before now. Like it'll help.

[ The tone of his voice implies he doesn't think that's true. ]

You came here because you want to help people too, probably, which is more than I can say for everybody. Most people come here just to live in the world, instead of save it.

[echopraxia]

( no. never that.

the corner of her mouth quirks, something slightly less humourless than the blandly pleasant affect she adopts most of the time, and she tilts her hand in invitation. by all means, lestat, you first. you know, for science. )

It is built to serve a need.

( as are they. not the one she so fervently believed in, though; it tastes bitter, and the dry edge of her is a knife. )

[look]

Don't think about down.

[ Will corrects him, professorly, his arms folded in his cardigan. He always has his glasses in the Matrix, even though he doesn't really need them. Short-sightedness must just be ingrained. ]

Down isn't — where you want to be.

[ Rogers is different. Most people, they might know they're in a simulation, but their gut still tells them that it's a long drop to the ground. But he's seen Rogers as he came out of that tube, and he knows that he carries his understanding of the distinction between real and not real down to the bone. It's written into his body, the strength in it. But that won't serve him everywhere: those muscles are made up of so much code, just like the distance between here and there.

Will states the obvious anyway. A little drily, going through the motions. There are more and more people waking up these days, and only so many teachers. ]

You have to believe your body can do the impossible.

simulation

[ex_spins462]

Please.

[ Dry, but Natasha is, despite herself, goaded.

Unlike May, she hasn't been enjoying the air, though she's not unaware of her (simulated) surroundings; it's just another minor detail to be stored away in case it becomes relevant later. She's never really been a "take a moment" kind of girl. No, her attention is laser focused on her goal.

It's too far for her to jump. Natasha knows that from experience, knows exactly how high and how far she can propel herself, the arc she will describe in the air, can practically visualize herself bounding confidently off the edge of the building into mid-air and swan-diving into the pavement. Maybe if she had Asgardian strength or Sam's wings —

But none of those things are real. She's finding it surpringly difficult to let them go. Apparently her mental flexibility doesn't extend to the foundation on which she built her hard-won sanity from the ground up. ]

If we can do anything in here, why can't we just walk on air? Or would that not be enough of a leap of faith.

[ex_spins462]

[ Natasha gives him a quick once over before she gives an internal shrug. ]

Yes.

[ Her voice somehow manages to be loud enough to cut through the music without registering enthusiasm. And then she turns and walks away, long strides and liberal use of her elbows to scythe through the writhing mass of bodies and away from what reads, to her, as desperation. Sweaty desperation, clinging determinedly to hedonism and life in a world with no room for them.

She doesn't look back to see if Peter follows. But she's waiting for him when he gets outside, all black leather and a fuzz of red hair, eyes teasing, mouth curled into a flirtatious half-smile. ]

Want to hear a secret?

[ex_spins462]

[ Natasha sits down beside him with the kind of grace that belies the way her muscles are still mildly atrophied, her hair barely more than a ginger fuzz. Nobody sees the way she forces herself through physical therapy with sweat and tears and self-censure to be able to move with her usual fluidity. She may never forgive her rescue team for seeing her so weak. ]

Is this a suicidal thing?

[ She's dressed warm, but doesn't offer to warm him, or any sort of assistance, just intrudes placidly on his solitary trial. ]

Waiting for a machine to hear your teeth chattering?

[look]

[ Observation isn't a magic trick or a special skill, so he knows as soon as she gets his attention (on the word "these") that she's freeborn. There's a lightness to her, and an acceptance that he thinks the rest of them should try to learn from. He wonders what it's like, to be the symbol of hope for a whole race. Probably still not that different from any other childhood.

Will runs a grimy hand over a solid length of steel, and then wiggles himself out from where he's half ensconced, wipes the oil and grease off on the thick material of his pants. ]

Sure.

[ He looks at the bag: there's a heft to it. ]

You collect all this?

[ Tone unaggressive, maybe even impressed. ]

[look]

[ A sideways glance that is, if not directly at Skye, then in her general vicinity. He tucks his hands into his pockets: it's colder up here than he's used to, wonders if someone's running a temperature mod for some other purpose in their glorified training grounds. ]

Jump.

[ He repeats, with the same even cadence as last time. Gestures across to the glassy glare of the next skyscraper over. ]

I thought you said you were a hacker?

[ Did she actually say that, who knows. ]

[ashing]

[John lets out a snort, perpetual arrogance barely dented by the revelation of reality, of walking around in a body that was new in every way that counted.

The image isn't helped much by how he's still leaning into the wall.]

Doc keeps telling me about building tolerances. [He raises eyebrows that have barely just managed to grow in.] Not interested in helping the fresh meat out?

[mrsnippy]

[Simulation]

[Charles knew it was all a simulation, knew it because he'd seen it loaded, but he was still have major difficulties disregarding the Law of Gravity. This was his sixth attempt at jumping off of a building and the sixth time he'd found himself lying in a pained heap on asphalt.]

G-damnit. [He groaned and levered himself up] Okay, trusting you enough to actually jump off a building is freer than I'm meant to be. This is a total failure.

[Reality 6]

[Charles stood shivering in the darkness of the overworld, hardly trusting himself to breathe. Something about his personal Matrix had gone terribly wrong years ago, so that he'd lived alone in a wasteland similar to this in many ways, struggling to survive with companions he now wonders were ever actual people or just glitches in the system.

Standing here now, realising how much he'd been dreaming of the real world, his main feeling was anxiety for the missing tech he'd worn that had kept him sheltered from radiation. He'd been told it was safe to stand here for short periods, but he still felt convinced that he was killing himself with each breath.

He smiled at the person standing beside him, a quick, unconvincing flash of his teeth as he asked.]

"Would you believe me if I told you this is actually better than where I'd been trapped for the last decade?"