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test drive | 1
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?
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.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.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.
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[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?"
reality 6
Yeah. [ Yeah, he can imagine a few worse places. ] What was it like?
Re: reality 6
[That quirk in returned allowed him to let his smile smooth into something more natural and far more cynical]
It was just my luck I got stuck a glitchy Matrix that kept picking up events from the real world. I was at the same time point as the real world, but the machines were networked to the ANNET instead. She hooked everyone's brains into her virtual world so they didn't have to see the polluted mess we lived in, [He smiled cynically, knowing he was telling a familiar tale right there] but I was incompatible with her broadcast. I'm sure you won't be shocked to learn that she decided to turn 99% of the world's brains off one day, and then some smartass decided to nuke her servers in revenge without warning the rest of the world first. WW3 broke out because everyone thought everyone else was responsible for killing most of humanity. That was ten years ago and it's sucked ever since.
[He sighed, then a moment later shrugged a shoulder as if the entire event hadn't profoundly affected him]
So I'm pretty grateful at the moment. There's air that's almost breathable, it's not nuclear winter, and there's people. I'm half scared I've gone crazy in the wastelands and you're just someone's skeleton propped against a wall.
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Maybe I am. [ A skeleton. His voice is rough, but his delivery is smooth, the ghost of long-dead charm. He shakes his head.
But whether he's nothing more than Charles Snippy's fever dream doesn't seem to concern him so much as, ] What sort of mutants?
[ So maybe he's more a threat assessment than a small talk kind of guy. ]
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[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.
7, since you asked for it!
Not so. Never so for Captain. They were a governor of their own nation, after all, and being cozened by soft-voiced women and men who wished them to sit and knit had been entertaining for approximately two days before they knit-bombed various potato-grade coppertops into their rocking chairs, claiming that "THEY WERE NOT READY TO PUPATE YET! THEY NEED MORE TIME!"
In any case, Captain had been put on lock-down, which they promptly began to avoid and escape at every opportunity. Now they were up here, on roughly the fourth or fifth refrain of the children's song -- plucking eyeballs and beaks and feathers seemed about their speed -- alternately tapping at a place under the lapel of their throw-rug of a sweater and waving a finger in time with the tune.
Snippy never had a chance.
"HELLO MON FRERE!" came the massive bellow from behind the man who seemed wholly intent to do something zappy with something metal. At the same time, Captain's nimble pasty fingers ducked inside their sweater, pulling a terribly hand-crafted mug from a bulging hidey hole on their chest of their sweater and a straw from roughly the same area. Fwip went the twist of plastic into the jack port of Snippy's skull, bare to the world like the boob that he was. (Captain was clever and covered their noggin, but Snippy needed to learn the lesson of fashion sense~)
Re: 7, since you asked for it!
The straw jammed into his port, making him cringe like he'd just chewed aluminium. With a strangled yell he cringed back, first trying to escape the pain and then, with a swift compact turn, trying to knock away his attacker.
He didn't hold back on Captain's behalf as he swing at his face- on the contrary, he tried to swing as hard and as fast as possible, as Captain had always had the habit of dodging everything he tried effortlessly.
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Captain was beginning to learn that Zion's reality didn't always work in their favour.
Exhibit A: grinning brightly even as the short man's fist connected with their sleek jaw, Captain took the entire brunt of Snippy's punch in a way that would make everyone nearby who wasn't engrossed in their work pause to stare. Captain had been standing unbalanced, rocking on their heels, so the force of the blow sent them reeling. They lost contact with reality for a few moments, up and down becoming meaningless alongside a number of other senses. When they hit the ground, the mug they'd lost contact with came smashing into dozens of semi-crumbly pieces in the grate-work next to them. Who knew where the implement of Snippy's awful poke-and-twirl experience had gone.
Captain had probably never fallen in their life. They stared, bemused, at the rig-work of white-hot florescent lights that stripped the dock of any shadow as equally white-hot pain radiated out across their face. What had just happened? "Super effective," they mumbled, blinking owlishly round eyes and trying to regain some sense of their surroundings.
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"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!"
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(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!"
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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."
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"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!!"
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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."
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"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.
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"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!"
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Well, that wasn't conspiratorial whispering anymore, but then, how long had Snippy really expected the Captain to respect his true wishes?
For now, everything under Captain's layers and layers of sweater-bits was being kept well in hand, as they were grasping at their torso as though it was their last life-saver, and a favourite flavour at that. It was more important even than remaining upright, which was something of a difficulty under the kind of treatment they were getting. Did Snippy understand how difficult it was to mince over docking bay floors in stocking feet, not to mention the multiple layers of Zion's assisted living district and every layer of the cake between there and here?! At some point Captain was going to have to instill better mindfulness of the soleful regions.
Yes, the straw was going to stay on their person, at least until that point. Soon enough they placed the full brunt of their dirty hand on Snippy's face, forcefully pushing him back. "Pull your face back together my friend, it is making the most thrilling attempt to escape in every direction and I mustn't be made to chase after each caterpillar and stray hair. Deep breaths!"
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"Bwah, you're disgusting!" He pulled up his sweater and scrubbed his face vigorously. "Use a sink once in a while! The world doesn't clean you here."
He tugged his sweater down again to glare hotly as soon as he'd replaced Captain's muck with streaks of engine grease, threatening him with a fervent "I'll get it soon! And you'll thank me when I do, because if you do that to anyone else, a bruised jaw is going to be the least of your worries."
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Captain had pulled their hands back when Snippy returned to scorching them with his single-minded fury, weathering the outpouring of pure hatred with a vapid, fond little smile. "Snippy, you are my left-handed man, and the only fair minion of Captania who can speak the truths! Speak the fairytales that will bring a ray of sunshine into the sad lives of these Zion-loafers."
Sighing dramatically, then placing a tentative hand to their jaw, Captain gave a note that sounded like it was about to spring forth into song. Snippy might recognize the prelude as a full-on gearing up, once it all fell into place.
"Without a ray of hope
Without a dream of sunshine,"
they boomed, causing a few of the workers who'd paused to see what the hell was going on with the fight to outright stop and stare,
"All our friends from down under
will know nothing but the pickled brine!
The pickled brine...
of dis-con-tent-ment!"
They'd slid around Snippy as they yodelled and now, Avon-style, presented the man to the onlooking workers by running their hands up and down either side of his face -- never touching, of course -- at least until Snippy whirled on them again, then it was bouncing backwards, grabbing ahold of one of the outthrust sensor-arrays on the ship in order to hoist themselves above the crowd.
"But my left-handed man
with the first-degree whine!
That's 'S-N-I-double P P-Y' but shout it like it's thunder!
He'll give you all a sign!
Yes a positive sign--"
Captain had hopped down again, had made a heart-shape with their hands and proceeded to palpitate it over their lumpy sweater-heavy chest
"--to relieve all of your...
re-sent-ment!"
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His face burnt a brilliant red as the glares began to turn on him as well. Some of them, like Bill in the bay opposite, obviously just wanted him to drag his crazy friend out before the whole yard completely fell behind schedule, but there was a particular quality to some of the looks he was getting that suggested some people were taking Captain's heartbeat dance way too literally.
"I'm not a wife-beater!" He howled as he hurled himself at Captain in an attempt to smother those gestures. "I'm a single man!"
I am so sorry, Snippy. ;w;
They got about two iterations of running and kicking and holding the hem of their sweater closed as they high-toed it around Snippy's work bay, crushing bits of un-fired mug under stocking feet, even showing a little bit of pasty ankle and lower leg-jack scarring before the short man managed to tackle them forward and into the sharp edges of the grated floor.
Captain's bruised jaw smashed against the metal and they squawked with the undignified glory of a full-throated buffoon. "Mein face!!"
Re: I am so sorry, Snippy. ;w;
"Sorry, sorry!" He called out to the crowd, followed by a hissed 'Get up.' "I'm taking Captain back to the ward now, so, um, just get on with your day!"
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In any case, their thoughts were preoccupied by their painful jaw at the moment, and on Snippy's knee in their back. Bits of sharp clay were caught between the floor and their sweaters, but more importantly all of the junk that Captain had been filching was caught between the various layers of their sweaters and their babyish skin. The wrenched arm sealed the deal: Captain bugled a note of distress when they didn't see an immediate outcome to this travesty, but only a collection of bruised flesh and, worse, ego.
"Fire!" Captain yowled. Everybody knew that in the case of an assault, one was to shrill the most likely threat to damage nearby property in order to get attention -- of course, the method of shrilling was different between the ANNET-laced matrix of their past and the gloriously uncopyrighted free speech of Zion -- but Captain was very quickly running out of options. It might have been the first time that they ever truly considered options to begin with. "Fire! Fire in the disco!!"
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The elevator cage was already waiting, thank G-d, and there was no one else inside, thank G-d again, so once Snippy managed to shove the pair of them inside and get it on the move to his floor he finally let himself relax just a bit and consider the situation.
"This is all your fault, you know." He eased his grip on Captain's arm, wincing at the marks he'd left on Captain's wrist. "G-damn it, Captain, we're in a society again. There's people here, real people, and that means there's consequences for your actions. You have to stop acting on the first stupid thought that pops into your head."
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Captain sprawled against the corner of the elevator, leaning heavily on the thigh-high bar and giving Snippy a look that was hard to nail down. It could be yearning, but it could also be the intense interest of a small child ogling a snail that needed the pinpoint beam of a magnifying glass. Whatever the case, he had Captain's full attention.
"Society?" Captain replied, "society is the real illusion, Snippy; we are a collection of thoughts and delicious meaty bits trying to make things happen. It is not for you or me to determine what is stupid and what is genius, it is for the thoughtful meaty bits to work out in time!"
This dissertation, of course, brought about by Captain's digging about in pockets. They pulled out a medallion on a plumbers chain, dangled it seductively between their fingers so that it could pendulum between them. "Look into my eyes," Captain beseeched, voice dropping into what could only be described as a cheesy (but probably more accurate than most) Transylvanian cadence. "Wipe that frown upside down, my Snippling."
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"No! This isn't- actually, no, you're right, it's not your place to decide what's stupid, so let someone who's actually worked out how to fit in tell you!" There was hardly any room to pace, so he did little more than turn in circles, but the movement helped let out some of his agitation
"It doesn't matter what you want or what you think or what you remember, the fact is that we're in Zion's city and we have to contribute. Do you think our food appears out of thin air? Do you think the electricity just springs out of magic? No! People are working to make those happen and if we don't work too we don't get to have any of those. If you can't get yourself together enough to do something productive you've got to stop getting in the way of those of us who do."
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