saveournumbers | First Test Drive Meme

First Test Drive Meme

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Welcome to the SoE TDM!

Due to the premise of the game, everyone on this testdrive must be the modern day reincarnation of the characters we all know and love. Please take a quick look at our navigation to familiarize yourself with the concept and setting of the game before you jump in.

Feel also free to check out the AU Relationship Plotting Post, the place where you can ask the mods any question, no matter how dumb they feel, and our call for more app, echo or co-mods.

When putting up a toplevel on the TDM, please link to your character's relationship plotting post comment if you have one for them. That way, other players can easily get an idea of what kind of character they will be tagging.

Other than that, you know the tdm drill - when commenting, please put your character's name and canon in the subject line, and write one or more threadstarters so others can tag you easily. Below, you'll find some prompts that you can use or discard at will to write those threadstarters.

1. This is now our wonderful everyday

Being people living in our regular, modern world, people need to work or study, eat and commute, shop and relax... Just that all those regular, normal tasks can hold unexpected difficulties if you were just sitting at the tills at Tesco's, and this noseless customer suddenly made you remember the day you lost your parents. Or maybe you were getting some exercise, and running down the street you developed superspeed and have no idea how to control it yet...

2. How many times will they have to tell you?

Twice a year, there are guided tours through the tunnels under the cliffs east of Mossgate. Those tunnels, dug into the chalk throughout centuries or perhaps millenia, were built without a general plan, so their layout is an absolute confusing mess. On top of that, there are cave-ins and unsafe areas. It is strictly advised to not stray from your group, as people have been harmed because they got lost in them before. But you just had to get distracted, or perhaps think that it would be more fun to explore on your own, and now you are lost without a blip of signal to call for help with...

3. Call my number, baby

Somehow you have the number of another Numbered, but don't know whose it is. Why? Perhaps a friend is trying to set you up on a blind date, perhaps you got a slip of paper just saying 'call this person' - for whatever reason, you have it, and deadly curious as you are, you of course write it down...

4. Fun, fun, FUN!

At Mossgate's seaside, a Victorian pleasure pier extends about 40 metres into the sea. The platform at the end of the pier holds fairground rides such as a merry-go-round, a small rollercoaster and a helter skelter and along the pier kiosks sell candy floss, rock candy, roasted nuts and other goodies. A small distance down the street, a minigolf site can be found and on the street along the coast there are fish and chips shops, family-friendly arcades and souvenir shops. Maybe you are actually here for the fun, or maybe you just work here or are trying to track down a wayward friend...

5. History is calling, can I hang up?

Mossgate has a rich history, visible through two museums, the Moss Army Fort, the ruins on the cliffs, and Moss Manor. Most of these can be visited. And two idiots with a boat can get to the crumbling Sea Forts, too....

6. Wildcard

The obligatory "do what you want, we're not your mum" option.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Alexander is a slender, floppish man in his mid sixties, with dyed blonde hair and an attention grabbing sense of fashion.

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The sun is out, and so are Mossgate's inhabitants, not least one of it's more flamboyant sons. It's late enough in the morning that Alexander has been lured out by the promise of sun, surf and shirtless men. Protecting his pale skin from the sun with factor thirty and an oversized hat, he's taken occupancy of a well placed bench on the pier. He has a sketch book out, but it's really just an excuse: his main business here is people watching, and he's having a wonderful day of it so far, though the seat next to him is also welcomingly empty.

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The Hive is Mossgate's premiere LGBT venue. Located in a prime position on the corner of the highstreet, the basement is a club, the ground floor a bar/cafe, and the first floor holds a rentable room for private parties and meetings. Matching it's bee theme, it's decked out in luxurious gold and rose gold, contrasted against gloss black. And the drones of this hive are the barmen and women, picked out specially for their beauty and fashion sense.

Like a true queen bee, Alexander can be found here most nights, since he lives on the top floor above the private rooms. Tonight he can be found in his favourite seat in the bar, attended to by a flurry of barmen and friends, but as always, anyone is free to join him (especially if they are pretty). The theme tonight is Eurovisions Past, and both club and bar are playing Eurovision favourites, although the bar has them on a much more reasonable volume.

Edited 2018-05-01 17:34 (UTC)

...they play, until someone slips and drops their drink all over the mixing console. Luckily, the resident (or well. Frequently frequenting) technician is there in short order. Not that she can do much about water damage, but she goes about salvaging things as quickly as she can, carefully but swiftly taking things apart, drying things off, and examining the situation.

A regular technician likely would have to call this mixing console a loss, but luckily she has a few aces up her sleeve. Though those would work better if nobody was looking over her shoulder.

She looks up and glares at the surrounding crowd (because of course bystanders have turned into an audience), and especially that one backseat driver giving unqualified advice in the back of the crowd.

"This will be fixed faster if you could go out for a smoke in the meantime."

Her eyes cast around for Alexander - surely he is around to usher people away? Please tell her that he is...

He is by now, at least, and he takes the hint, swarming his way to the front of the crowd in the way that only Alexander knows how. He's already made a couple of quick texts to the upstairs drones, preparing them for a flood. "Now, my sweetlings, you know we can't work nearly as fast with your lovely presence distracting us, so if you just toddle upstairs for five minutes, Mattie and Gill have brought down a bottle of sours, and there'll be a shot for everyone on the house to make up for the inconvience." Actually, he told them to take their time getting said bottle, but it's enough to cause a stampede, even if the backseat mechanic takes one last look before following the herd.

"There, my darling, now you can work your magic without all those little inconveniences." He smiles sweetly at Charley, the magic part of that sentiment absolutely a part of his regular speech pattern (except that this is Charley and it absolutely isn't, any more than his new wardrobe is just a change of style). "You can fix it, right?" He adds, with a little tinge of worry. A new deck will be rather more expensive than a couple of bottles of sours - and he'll have to put his Eurovision parties on hold.

"Thanks."

It's said rather too dryly to really count as gratitude, but it is still meant to be a thank-you and not a go-away. She doesn't mind Alexander's presence. The club's owner might take interest in what she does, but in a way that she surprisingly doesn't mind - a pleasant mix between not strictly understanding what she's doing but appreciating it with expertise, anyway. Not many people can do that. Usually you either get armchair mechanics, snobby dudes or overwhelmed little old ladies as types of observers. Alexander falls in neither of those categories.

And, she has found, for one reason or the other he doesn't make it harder for her supernatural tech skills to not malfunction. Most people - even some numbered people - do.

"I'm not going to promise anything, but I'll do my best." Her hands are still busy taking things apart and drying them off while she talks, her eyes on her work and not on him. "Can you get me more paper towels?"

Of all those options, Alexander is closest to the overwhelmed little old lady. He loves social media, but he doesn't understand it, and he defers all of his computer issues to his second in command and/or whichever drone gets too close when he's having an issue. All he can do right now is wring his hands worriedly and watch her as she works, and hope for the best (and keep their well meaning audience away).

"If you can fix it, I'll fetch you anything you like, peach blossom." He promises, but he still patters off behind the bar. The drones who were manning (and ladying) it have disappeared upstairs to help Mattie and Gill, so he's safe from distractions and returns in a moment with a fresh package of towels. He leaves them on the side, within her reach, and then heads back over to grab the mop from the cupboard. He might be a ~~lot~~ bit of a fop, but at least he's a fop that doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. "Let me know if I can do anything else for you."

"Right now I mostly need you to stick around and make sure that no new crowd gathers.

...Preferably that nobody comes down here, but I guess you can only do so much." She makes an almost pained noise as she gets deeper into the board and sees just how deep the liquid has gotten.

"Wow, that person had aim."

"Anything interesting happening today?" asks a voice over Alexander's shoulder, as a familiar face comes to lean on the back of the bench.

Sam Stone, retired airforce officer and one of the local busybodies, is a decade and change older than Alexander, but still active and generally friendly, if a bit gruff. He knows most of the retired community in Mossgate, and even though Alex is still technically working, owning the club and all, he still counts as someone worthy of Sam knowing.

"I see you haven't managed much artwork, so I'm going to guess yes," he adds with a smirk.

First Test Drive Meme

Akeldama | Parasol Protectorate

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