test drive meme. 001

[wpsfaculty]

T E S T  D R I V E  M E M E

Welcome to the Dead House.

And to our first Test Drive Meme! Please see the links below for information on the housing arrangements and the setting to get some ideas! Below is also an example of one of the altering events and how it can be played with in game!

There's also the option of using that neat little wrist screen to see who all these "others" are!

Note: If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask on the FAQ.

premise • getting started • rules/faq • housing • setting

one flew over the cuckoo's nest.

PROMPT 1: Left to Your Own Devices

There's no tugging sensation, so sense of falling or of being uninterruptedly drawn from your own world, or wherever you've found yourself, to yet another. Your sense of smell returns first, as the antiseptic scent of hospital fills your nostrils and a bright light somewhere above you begins to pierce the gloom as a reassuring male voice repeats your name.

A medicinal haze fills your mind, clouding your thoughts as you blink your eyes open. The man, blond with a gentle smile and kind eyes behind thick glasses, across the simple wooden desk from you seems familiar, but you're sure you've never seen the man before...right? He tells you that it's alright, that you had another episode and required sedation, that the drugs are wearing off now and any residual haze you're experiencing should clear as the day progresses.

After a discussion, limbs still refusing to cooperate, you're taken through winding corridors and up a rickety elevator to a floor with rows of numbers doors on either side. One is opened and inside you're deposited unceremoniously on the small cot within. An undetermined amount of time passes as sounds occur around you, the shuffling of feet, muffled voices, a bird at the small barred window letting in overcast daylight. Are the sounds figments of your hazy imagination or is that someone at your open door trying to get your attention? If only your limbs would cooperate...

PROMPT 2: and at the mercy of a strange device...

The world begins to take in a sharper focus as a vibrating sensation at your wrist catches your attention. There, a plain hospital bracelet, stating only your full name and a room number, is found, shaking gently against your skin. Brushing at it, what first seemed to be only a clear window holding a piece of type-printed paper with your information on it goes to static for a moment, like a small view screen, then to black, and the following words flash quickly across the screen:
your memories are real
there are others
don't believe their lies
Any attempt to respond to the strange message is met with silence. What others? Do they mean the other people on your floor? The other floors? Do they mean their lies or the ones who put you here, apparently for your own good?

PROMPT 3: Where exactly is here?

The room in which you find yourself is sparcely furnished, but with a bit of peculiarity for the curious and exploratative. The facility itself seems to run on a firm schedule that affords for a lot of free time to use the facilities, be it the sparce showers, the rec rooms on every floor that contact various but rudamentary forms of entertainment, or the yard with its exercise areas, spaces for outdoor sports, and the workshop for the more industrious patients. There's even a list of tasks that need performing, with a reward system in place.

NOTE: When the environment isn't altered in some way, the above is what patients can expect from the day to day life of the Dead House. The cafeteria and the yard are open at specific times of the day, stated on the Housing page. Otherwise, patients are given free rein through the wards, including the recreation rooms and there is no "lights-out" time.

EVENT PART I: just another day at the carnival.

Access to the Yard opens today like it does everyday, but as soon as the double doors open, the scent of popcorn, cotton candy, fried dough and anything else you typically associate with a carnival assail your nostrils along with cheery carnival music. The mist that typically hangs over everything is gone, replaced by resplendent sunshine that reflects on all the brightly colored carnival tents, the gleaming metal of the rides...when did this get here?

Looking back, the hospital building is nowhere in sight, and it looks as though you stepped through a fairgrounds entranceway, instead. You and everyone else around is clothed, suddenly and without warning, in whatever clothing would be normal for you in your own worlds, but no matter how outlandish that might be, no one seems to take any offense to it.

Patients are free to roam the carnival, ride the rides, eat the popcorn and other treats, play the carnival games and even win prizes! Hey, there seems to be plenty of acceptable currency in your pockets, so why not, right?

For those of you who return through the doors you entered by on-time per the schedule, your clothes return to scrubs and anything you won or bought at the carnival disappears...

...except for one thing of the player's choosing. Did you get to keep that stuffed animal you strove so hard for? Maybe a candied apple? Whatever it is, that one thing is yours to keep! Un...less the orderlies find it. Maybe you should stash it in that chest of yours in your room...

EVENT PART II: one night in horrorland.

For those more stupidly brave and adventurous patients who stay outside after the doors have closed, the cheerful carnival changes quickly as the sun sets below the horizon. The dazzling lights go out, leaving the entire assembly, and all its attendees from the hospital plunged into darkness. With the loss of light, all the throngs of people who'd been attending the carnival seem to have disappeared as well. In fact, looking around at the gloomy midway and off-shoots bathed in the light of the full moon overhead, it seems as though no one has been here for some time. Signs and billboards that had appeared new in the light of day seem weatherbeaten and abandoned, garbage never cleared rots in the streets, filling the area with a sickeningly sweet smell of decay.

The passages seem to shift, like a moving labyrinth, if patients attempt to find the way out, to the comparable safety and warmth of the hospital, and considering the sense of being watched that seems to be creeping up on all of you, sending a close sweat down your spines, that might be a good idea...if you can find the way. The gloom itself is thick, and figures move just at the edge of your vision, darting into a funhouse here, or maybe even calling your name...

...with a voice that sounds familiar. Follow at your own risk, though, because anyone who hasn't found their way back to the hospital before the sun rises may find themselves missing, as the carnival leaves with the sunrise...

OOC note: The figures characters glimpse are real, and you're free to NPC whatever haunted carnival, slasher film, or other horror movie trope you'd like with them if they corner your character...or if your character happens to think they've cornered them. Keep in mind, characters can die, and the cost of returning is a lost memory. Have fun!

navigation: premise ❈ rules/faq ❈ reserves ❈ patients ❈ applications ❈ setting ❈ ic comm ❈ ooc comm ❈ meme comm ❈ directory

Comments

Sylar | Heroes

[termineur]

i. exploration

Sylar-- okay, so his medical bracelet reads "Gabriel Gray"- is someone who's not new to the concept of sedation. He shakes it off fairly quick. And once he does, he's wandering the halls, examining everything he can. He's fairly certain this is some sort of...weird mind thing that Parkman's done to him. He just has to figure out the trick to it.

He seems honestly rather at home here, even as he walks into your room and starts rifling through your sparse belongings. Hey, he's crazy, it's not like people can expect him to respect others' privacy. Besides, there's nothing like a conversation starter that gets other people to speak first.


ii. Entertainment

Once he gets bored of looking through so many identical rooms, he can be found in the leisure area, apparently flipping playing cards into the air. Funny thing, though- all those playing cards are floating down to join a rather elaborate and fragile-looking house of cards. They seem to be arranging themselves on the table, with no outside help. The house seems oddly stable, too...

Sylar, of course, is keeping an eye on everyone's reactions. Time to see who notices. So far he's determined that the nurses are definitely not noticing.


iii. Familiar

The first time anyone can find Sylar looking unsettled is out in the yard. It's not the outside that's bothering him, really- it's this carnival. He stands out against the colors in all-black clothing, as he stares intensely at the rides and booths.

By the time anyone comes across him, he's staring down the worker at the ring toss. His hands are flat on the booth as he leans over. "Where's Sullivan, huh? Where is he? You'd think he'd want to protect his family here from the Big Bad Wolf, right? Because if he doesn't show, I'm starting the feast early, and you're gonna be the first one I open up."

Never mind that he can't sense any abilities from anyone here. He's mad, so he's got to take it out on someone.

i. exploration

[customplates]

Aaron is pacing when "Gabriel" enters his room, trying to digest everything that's been shoved into his mind, and trying to shake the foreboding that came with that message. He stops, simply staring for a moment, blinking, at this man who makes no introduction, but simply begins to...rifle through his bed?

Was it is? The people who worked here seemed to think so.

"Hey...excuse me. Can I...help you?"

[termineur]

Gabriel stops suddenly, letting what could only vaguely be called a 'mattress' flop back down onto the cot. He looks up to Aaron and gives him a bright smile. "I don't know, maybe. I just got here- have you been stuck here for awhile?"

Yes, he knows the doc said he'd had an 'episode' but really. His episodes tend to involve a lot more murder and a lot less drab decor.

[customplates]

"And...this is how you say hello..." Aaron tone isn't accusatory or anything, just a slightly awkward observation. He shakes his head. He can't say his directionless looking about had been any better.

He closes the distance between himself and Sylar, "I just woke up a little bit ago, myself." He offered a hand and a smile. "Why don't we try this again? I'm Aaron."

[termineur]

Sylar looks at the hand before taking it with a smile. "Sylar," he states, because like hell is he going by Gabriel with the other inmates here. "And honestly? I'm not a fan of the nurses being within earshot all the time, so I've been seeing who's in their rooms. Do you remember coming here? 'cause I don't."

[customplates]

"It's nice to meet you, Sylar." He nods, but also notes that's a different name from what his bracelet, but doesn't say anything about it. Who's he to argue with what someone wants to be called?

"And no, I don't. I...sort of get the feeling they aren't being honest with us."

i

[raccity]

Funny enough, Leon had been heading back to the room he'd woken up in to do something similar to what he walked in to find Sylar doing. He was hoping to find some clue that would help him make sense of finding himself here.

He pauses in the doorway, watching for a moment, before clearing his throat obviously.

"Looking for something?" The way he crosses his arms over his chest certainly seems to imply he's not too impressed by finding this stranger poking around.

[termineur]

Sylar looks up, craning his neck back to find Leon in the doorway. At the sight of another patient, he seems to relax and straightens up to talk to the guy. "Yeah. Anything out of place here, other than us and these things-" He taps the medical bracelet. He's never been afraid of coming off like a nutso- and that's even less of a concern now. "Did you just get here, too?"

[raccity]

It's not like he actually feels possessive or even protective of anything in this room. As far as he knows, he doesn't have any possessions here. What Leon does have an issue with is someone whose poking through other people's things with the intention of stealing them. Just because he doesn't have shit to steal doesn't make it okay.

But then the stranger actually gives him an explanation.

"Out of place? How would you know if it's out of place?" Leon peers down the hallway in both directions, watching out for orderlies, before stepping inside and closing the door to give them some privacy.

"I don't really remember getting here. I just sort of... woke up a while ago."

[termineur]

Sylar appreciates you closing the door, Leon. He leans up against the nearest wall and crosses his arms. "Yeah. Same here. I'm figuring they hit us with a brand new drug cocktail, 'cause most of that stuff doesn't stay in my system too long. What were you up to before you woke up here? Because I was busy. Gonna bet you were, too."

Whoever was brought here had to be either: a) a complete fabrication, or b) a high-value target, at least in Sylar's estimation.

[raccity]

"I was-" He frowns a little, looking away as he tries to figure out what to say.

"Yeah. I was busy, too. On my way out of a city. Um. But I had some injuries. A gunshot wound in my shoulder along with some other injuries," That in itself had him half believing that everything had been in his head. Not to mention the zombies...

"I think you're right, though. About the drugs. It wouldn't be that much of a stretch to think they could've given us something that gave us short term memory loss, right? It feels like I'm missing time," He frowns a little, "Unless what the doctor said is true. And I'm just nuts."

iii;

[aparkourlypse]

There's nothing about the carnival that doesn't seem out of the ordinary, and the fact that they're suddenly wearing different clothing? Jesus doesn't trust it one bit, though he's not trying to spoil anyone else's fun. It's all real enough, and it reminds him of the county fairs that had always come around in the summer that always smelled of fried dough and cotton candy. He sticks out in his own attire, too.

Mostly he spends his time watching everyone else as he wanders the neatly set up rows of games and food stands, which is when he spots someone roughing a poor game attendant up and getting in his space. Jesus steps forward, placing a hand on the man's arm firmly with a frown on his face.

"Why don't we leave the poor guy alone?"

[termineur]

Sylar turns suddenly to look at Jesus, his eyes flashing dangerously and his tight smile only adding to his unhinged expression. He attempts to tug his arm away from Jesus' grip. Whether he's successful or not doesn't seem to matter too much to him. "You- pretty sure you've got no clue what's going on here, so why don't you watch? And listen. And maybe take a step back, because this is gonna get messy."

And with that, he turns toward the attendant and holds his free (ungrabbed) hand out towards the man, palm out and fingers spread wide. The 'poor guy' is thrown back by an invisible force, and ends up plastered against the stuffed animals on the back wall of the booth. It's probably highly uncomfortable along with being impossible.

The game attendant yells with pain and whimpers out, "I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know any Sullivan! I promise!"

[aparkourlypse]

He knows danger when he sees it, and his guard raises when he sees the man's expression. It's one he's seen countless times before, and it never ends well for anyone. Jesus lets the man pull his arm away, though he instantly regrets it as things get violent. When the poor attendant is flung against the wall, he gapes, not sure what exactly happened, but it's clear that Sylar is the cause of it. Jesus has never seen anything like this, not in person, and none of it in reality.. and yet.

The game attendant yelling and pleading snaps him back to the situation, and he gets angry.

"Put him down!"

If his demand goes unanswered, he won't hesitate to land a kick to Sylar's side to at least pull his attention away from the innocent guy.

[termineur]

Somehow he'd expected the interfering guy to take his advice- if not when it was given, then when his telekinesis started being flung around. It's a problem he's had since the beginning, underestimating people without special abilities.

So the kick to his side is completely unguarded, and it does break his concentration enough to let go of the attendant. He briefly doubles over, and that gives the poor guy a chance to hightail it out of there. Gabriel could bring him back, but- well, he's got a new focus now.

He looks annoyed as he straightens up. "Well. Thanks for sticking your nose in where it's not wanted. Tell me, do you you know where to find the telepath that's messing with us?" It had to be a telepath- maybe not Matt, but surely someone at the carnival had that power.

ii. Entertainment

[itsnothingpersonal]

Without allies, Loki was uncomfortable, but most of those he's met here were...well, certainly useable but this one, the man across the room. He had interesting abilities. Loki detects no magic about the skills, though, which means it must be something else, something inherent perhaps, that gives him this control: telekinesis. Oh yes, very interesting.

And also unpredictable. Only a fool would assume this man had only the one trick up his sleeve, but while he's revealed one, Loki plays his cards closer to the vest, rising from his own chair and splitting with an illusionary projection of himself, the illusion seeming to return a book to its case while Loki himself quietly left the room. And then, the projection of Loki approached Sylar's interesting table looking appropriately impressed.

"Cards...don't do that naturally. Mind if I have a seat, maybe a closer look?"

[termineur]

It is unusual that someone opens with telekinesis, isn't it? Truth be told, playing with it was settling Sylar's mind in an almost meditative way- but he'd tell himself the point was purely to catch attention.

He'd been somewhat concerned no one was going to bite at first, and he'd have to start entertaining the idea of it actually being in his head. That doesn't last as someone does finally step forward. "Of course," he says, with a smirk and a slight gesture of one finger. A chair nearby slides out for Loki to sit in. "It doesn't seem like our special abilities are being suppressed, at least. Of course, it doesn't seem like the nurses notice at all. I wonder what they are seeing."

Loki might be the sort to hold his powers close to his chest- Sylar is more the type to try and make people uncomfortable with how bold he is about them.

[itsnothingpersonal]

One thing Loki remained grateful for was the anonymity afforded him by the drab surroundings and provided clothing. Here, he was effectively allowed to be whomever he convinced people he was wise enough to keep his name. They were all forced to wear bracelets that identified them, after all.

He looks duly impressed at the moving chair, though he could do something similar himself, and eased the projection of himself upon it, careful not to cross any lines and give up his ruse. He's had a few hundred years practice.

"Is this your only special ability? Moving things about with your mind?"

[termineur]

"Nah," he says, looking supremely pleased with himself. He loves it when people are impressed and not scared of his powers. "But it is the one I'm best with."

Interesting that this man is even thinking that he might have more than one. Maybe it's someone that flew under Primatech's radar for awhile. "Do you have one, yourself? You seem more familiar than most would be."

No mention of the nurses now. He's on his favorite subject.

iii. familiar

[seacrests]

It's the fact the guy sounds like he knows what he's talking about that has Jeff coming up, but not with the intention to stop him from questioning. Rather, he grabs a handful of dollars in his pocket, puts them on the counter, and then gives the ring toss guy a simple, "Yeah, I'd like a go."

And though the man looks visibly shaken from Sylar's questioning, he does go to retrieve a stack of rings to hand over Jeff's way (relieved, deep down, for the brief reprieve). Jeff takes them, offers a small smile, and then tosses the first one. He misses.

While the ring toss worker busies himself behind the counter, Jeff keeps going. And though he might not be looking Sylar's way, he does ask, "Who's Sullivan?"

[termineur]

Sylar doesn't move from his position, not more than a slide of his eyes to look to the guy on the right. Huh.

He finally lets go of the table and stands up straight at the question. He's wary, but that wasn't the worst way to handle yourself. "Sullivan is the ringleader of this carnival. Literally. And everyone in it has a special ability. Like me, but- not quite like me."

He points at ring Jeff's just tossed, and it stops mid-air. With exaggerated hand movements, he uses telekinesis to settle it over one of the bottlenecks. He smirks a bit as he looks back to Jeff, clearly waiting for his reaction.

Re: Sylar | Heroes

[prezstandsalone]

Nathan is wandering the carnival too feeling the same odd sense of familiar when he hears the voice asking for "Sullivan." The sound sends a shiver down his spine and everything him in him either wants to fight or run away. He decides to walk over and ask the owner of the voice what is going on instead. "Who is Sullivan....."

[termineur]

The voice gets him to spin around in place, suddenly losing interest in the worker entirely. His eyes narrow as he stares at Nathan.

"What are you doing here?" he demands, trying to mask the fear in his voice with anger. Nathan should be totally gone, whether the memories were still around or not.

[prezstandsalone]

Nathan takes a step back and then pulls himself back forward. He has every right to be here as much as this man. "I don't know," he replied because he really didn't. His memories are fuzzy and the "therapy" isn't helping. "I'm just...here."

[termineur]

Sylar goes still, silently looking over every bit of Nathan. He reaches out and tries to grab him by the sleeve. He feels real, but there's no way. "You don't know who I am? Do you know who you are?"

This is a trick. This is a trick and he shouldn't be indulging it. But it still feels sort of like looking into a mirror- and the man in front of him looks so lost.