TEST DRIVE MEME 003

[larkers]

> TEST DRIVE MEME #003

Welcome to the Meadowlark test drive meme! After waking up in strange and rather worrisome conditions, characters will need to begin to live their lives in this new world. All TDM threads take place after the arrival process, so please assume that the initial adjustment period has passed. Now it's time to see the bright sights and sounds that New Amsterdam – and beyond – has to offer. All Meadowlark test drive memes will not be game canon. Please feel free to carry on relationships that make sense, but if your character is off on a colony researching terraforming or in jail because they vandalized corporation signage with Morningstar's emblem, that will be a little harder to transfer into game. All applicants can use threads from the TDM for their samples.

> SETTLING IN

There is very little that can smooth over the experience of your arrival in this world. Coming to in a van, drugged and restrained, only to be carefully helped out by the unknown guards and nurses and then abandoned in an alleyway. What comes after is relatively straightforward: you're found by others and taken back to a safehouse, hidden under an abandoned supermarket. This has happened before. There are others not from this world who have experienced the same, with no recollection of how they came here, bearing signs that they've lost months of their lives, but unfortunately, no more answers on how or why than you do. There are theories, crossed realities, a very real sense of immense violation to one's self. Maybe this knowledge brings you a growing sense of futility, or perhaps it inspires a deeper determination in you. But even as you begin to think on what next, life has to go on. All of the new arrivals will be given a fake ID and a background that will lend them access to entry-level jobs. It may be overwhelming, but Morningstar won't be asking anyone to get their lives together immediately. It would take at least a month's wages to put down a deposit on even the smallest apartment in the city, so everyone has a grace period before they set out. Morningstar will also make their purpose clear if asked: they are a group dedicated to fighting corruption and righting the wrongs of this world, though they won't go into detail to someone who isn't a member. It will be made expressly clear that anyone who's received assistance from Morningstar has to keep that a secret, as it could compromise their life and safety, as well as the lives of others. > 001: EXPLORE THE CHANGES You have been changed, and unfortunately Morningstar know very little about how or why. They won't be able to give a crash course to answer everything, and in fact, may seem just as surprised (or scared) as you over some of the strange abilities you now have. They know this has happened, but it's just as strange for them as it is for you. Most of the troubling changes will be what's happened to each person's physiology. Every aspect of this situation is already enough to make someone feel scared, stressed, confused, or even angry at what's happened to them - having to navigate a new, crowded and noisy world could easily provide enough stimulation to make it worse . Unfortunately, strong emotion could be just the key to triggering your new power. To get things under wraps, you'll want to duck away to somewhere more private or hidden. Thankfully, there are numerous underpasses, dark corners, and currently-empty shops, but you'll need to be quick to avoid raising any eyebrows – or avoid hurting anyone. Otherwise, you might prefer to play it safe and avoid striking out before you have more answers. As much as Morningstar has been helpful, you know that the others in your situation may have more information. But be careful that you don't end up sharing more than you intended. Every instance of skin-to-skin contact will trigger an immediate empathic bond, letting you feel the other person's emotions and vise versa. While there's nothing that can be done to completely prevent this, someone can either decide to hold on and continue sharing that level of emotional intimacy, or let go and end the shockingly vulnerable exchange. > 002: THE NETWORK One thing Morningstar do know about is the neural implant. This piece of tech is a basic necessity of life in this world, and you now have one in your head. Thankfully Morningstar are able to provide any necessary information to help you understand this new tool and its application to daily life. Early on, every newcomer receives access to an encrypted network, only available to you and the others like you, making contact between you easy and safe. Familiarize yourself with this network and dig in. Perhaps you're hoping to find some bigger answers, ask about the latest weather or nail polish trends in New Amsterdam, or want to discuss how much Morningstar suck in a venue where they'll absolutely see it. Don't worry, you won't be booted. They're used to it. There are private, one-on-one modes of communication available as well, though without the security of Morningstar's encryptions, they're much less safe. You can make calls, send texts, make videos, and even interact with others in a VR simulation – however, there it's made very clear that the government has a means of tracking these. This definitely isn't a place to be careless about your communication.

> RESOLUTION DAY FESTIVAL

One day a year, everyone the whole system over participates in the annual celebration of Resolution Day. It's not explicitly stated what Resolution Day actually is; there's no reason to declare what everyone already knows, and characters may find themselves experiencing some intense culture shock as they stumble into the festivities. The celebration starts early and finishes late – very late – so whether you choose to join in the fun, learn more about the history of the festival, or take advantage of the revelry for other, more nefarious goals, you'll have plenty of time. As the festival sprawls wildly throughout the streets of New Amsterdam, it gives even the most desolate parts of the city new life with bright lights, noise, and plenty of food. Recent circumstances have left New Amsterdam in a constant state of rebuilding, but the festival adds gloss to a lot of the damage – though most of the festival strays away from the most ruined architecture so that it doesn't serve as a constant reminder. Most businesses are shut for the day, giving their workers the time to enjoy the celebration, but some might consider this one of their most profitable days of the year – if you've gotten yourself a restaurant, rickshawing or corporate PR job, you might find yourself stuck on a double shift. Better snatch what small moments of enjoyment you can! > 003: ENJOY THE FESTIVITIES Anything you'd think it would be at a festival in the year 2511 is definitely at this festival. Care to play a game? All attendees can play for free. Some games – like the hoverblade racing, the augmented reality fightboxes and the street-wide bouts of laser tag – involve a partner or a competitor, so you better hope someone's willing to do you a solid or bring out your competitive side. If having fun involves less competition and more opportunities to feel emboldened, there are karaoke setups all over the city. Most of the songs will be unfamiliar to anyone who's new to this world, but like any music in any era, they're catchy enough. There are some jingles that have managed to survive several hundred years, and you might stumble across a gaggle of teenagers declaring that "All You Need is Love." To encourage letting loose, most of these karaoke booths have bartenders available to help someone find the courage they need to reach the stage. Or maybe it's time to try the delicacies of New Amsterdam. Hundreds of food trucks have turned out today in droves with high hopes that they'll come away turning a profit. Down for some Mexi-German fusion? Or perhaps you're hoping that pad Thai still tastes the same with grasshoppers? Share your food – or give away whatever you don't like. Food trucks are the hub of activity, and the busiest ones might be worth the time, but you'll be standing in line for a while. > 004: HISTORY LESSONS Aside from your typical booths of free samples, charitable causes, volunteer applications, and white chocolate-covered beetles, you'll find an opportunity to learn about Resolution Day’s history. There are various stands available where – thanks to the augmented reality application of your neural implant – you can view video about the origins of the festival and what, exactly, everyone's celebrating. These videos will play for you and you alone, and you'll soon learn that this is the day, 410 years ago, that humans successfully ended the AI war. If you'd like to feel like a hero, the UNA are running several virtual reality simulations where you can be taken to the battlefield to fight alongside fellow soldiers, working to bring the outwardly robotic AI to submission. The virtual reality simulation interacts with your neural implant to give you the most realistic experience possible. If you don't ground yourself enough, you'll be certain that the sights, sounds, and smells around you are real as you march in formation toward the brutality waiting up ahead. Feel free to team up with a partner on a side mission, or maybe try to keep someone from plugging in for what could be a traumatic experience. Eerie, heart-wrenching music plays when you die, but is promptly followed by the image of several corporate logos reminding you that they sponsored this day and this event. If you're uncomfortable with this information, no one will understand why. AI sympathizers are not present among the native population. Will you risk trying to change their minds? > 005: USING DISTRACTIONS There are other opportunities in the city being flooded with festival-goers. For Morningstar, this is a prime opportunity to test new recruits when it comes to charming corporate execs and getting in good with them. Whatever your cover story is, make it good. Whether you claim you're hoping to pitch an idea for some new tech or are more interested in seducing – or squeezing – some information out of them, following them into the next bar or karaoke booth may give you the perfect chance. But you might want a lookout to watch your back, a co-conspirator to keep them plied with drinks, or maybe you'll need a voice of reason to stop you from squeezing too hard. Morningstar values discretion – and so does everyone else, for that matter.

> CRIMINAL ACTIVITY

Traveling down from the hectic main city streets reveals a different side from the gloss and promise of New Amsterdam. Economic disparity runs rampant throughout the city, and many people are pushed to desperation, looking to find other ways to make ends meet. In the darker shadows, many illegal activities thrive, out of view of the authorities - or perhaps known and supported by corrupt individuals. Maybe you're here exploring, completing a task for Morningstar, or working a job in the place you excel. Whatever's brought you here, you may want to watch your step, or else find the city eating you as it has so many others. > 006: GETTING IN Organized crime still has a strong foothold in the world, with gangs and more established families working drugs, weapons, property and black market cybernetics, to name a few. These organizations are sprawling units that regularly recruit new members into their ranks, so long as they can prove themselves by passing the intensive hazing. Maybe you'd like to have a role in such a powerful organization. Or maybe you'd like to use your relative anonymity to burn it all down. One way to get an in is through their numerous clubs and illegal gambling dens, where to get past the door you have to know a guy who knows a guy who knows a guy. Don't know a guy? Feel free to try to use brute force or some chicanery to make them believe that you belong among their numbers. Just don't get caught doing anything they don't like – which could be breathing the wrong way, if you're unlucky enough. Best to have an escape plan in place, like perhaps stealing one of the many hovercars or hoverbikes parked outside the establishment. If you've got the skills, you'll be able to weave through the chaos of the city and make a clean getaway – just don't let the chase run for too long, or you'll have law enforcement on your ass as well. > 007: FIGHT CLUB No matter the occasion outside, New Amsterdam's fight club events are held every evening. The bouncers at the door don't have too many scruples on who they let inside. All they care about is whether someone has the money to pay the cover charge. The interior of the fight club reveals the sophistication of a business that's used to uprooting itself regularly. All the fights take place in a large cage in the center, and you remain on your feet while you enjoy the show. There is a special VIP section if you've been lucky enough to receive an invite or bribe your way in – just keep in mind that these invites are scarce, and you will have to have done something spectacular to earn the attention from someone high up the food chain. Regardless of where you end up, there is one rule: what happens in the fight club stays in the fight club. This tenant is law, and everyone's heard stories of the different (and sometimes extreme) lengths which have been taken to maintain it. Maybe you're here to sign up and test your chops against other fighters. Many of the fighters boast illegal cybernetic enhancements, so it would be a really good idea to have someone on hand who knows some first aid. Maybe you'd prefer to just enjoy the show, or take the opportunity to grill the bartenders for information. Just be careful not to make a fool of yourself. Asking too many questions might catch the wrong kind of attention – the kind that might find you being thrown into the ring, whether you wanted to be there or not. For all the blood spilled, these fight clubs thrive on discretion, so whatever you do, try to keep it quiet.

> THE STATUS QUO

By the next morning, the true shape of New Amsterdam will come to light for everyone who steps out and sees that it has been devastated recently. There are numerous construction sites throughout the city, with some being more expedient than others, all to try to rebuild a city that's been under duress. There are numerous mandates that filter through news feeds, telling citizens that they should turn in any monster carcasses from the June 27th attacks. With no further context, it might be up to you to look into what this even means: doing just that will lead to numerous articles about a mysterious creature attack that assaulted the city and led to countless people being made homeless. No one knows the cause for the attack, as investigations are ongoing. The effects of this attack are more apparent today than they were the day before. While the festivities demanded that the streets were bare, numerous tent cities have gone back up to take the place of the booths. The people living here look like they've been here for a while, and Resolution Day festivities mildly inconvenienced them. The supplies going to them are only just enough for them to be comfortable, with most of their facilities being maintained and highly restricted to keep up water rationing demands. Soon enough it will be apparent that this is what New Amsterdam is like, with the same amount of targeted advertisements built in to the city's foundation to show the influence of the local corporations. > 008: WHERE THERE'S SMOKE Around midday, vents open up throughout New Amsterdam to let smoke rapidly filter up into the foreground of the city. The reason why? A fire sparks in the underground portion of New Amsterdam, spreading quickly between two apartment buildings. The cause is unknown, and while firefighters are on the scene, they could use an extra hand. Numerous people suffer from the effects of smoke inhalation, and there are likely more inside the buildings themselves waiting for an assist. For anyone who's been here already, this may feel like a familiar sequence of events, but going into the fire puts anyone at risk for being infected by the smoke itself. The infection is far from contagious and doesn't spread from one person to another - but it's highly unpleasant, leaving someone feeling mild nausea and headaches, irritability, vertigo, feverish … and vengeful. As the sickness takes hold and worsens, anyone impacted by this infection will feel the need to take revenge on people around them. This retaliation can take any number of forms from violent to non-violent: pick countless fights, or manipulate your friends into fighting one another for your own satisfaction, just to prove that they will turn on one another. Thankfully, there is a cure for this righteous anger – unless you're inclined to feel this normally, of course. Any of the player characters who didn't stage a rescue in the burning building will be able to cure others by making skin-to-skin contact and holding on to it for a prolonged period of time. This contact will lead to their chest glowing blue for the entire duration, an increasingly burning sensation for both parties involved which eventually culminates in a sense of peace before giving way to a deep, pervading sense of sadness. Throughout New Amsterdam, there will be countless people impacted by this infection thanks to their close proximity to the fire itself. It's up to you to help them – or leave them hanging, if that's what you prefer. But the only existing cure appears to be anyone with the strange blue stuff in their chests. The news reports that follow reiterate that everyone in the city should turn in any remaining monster carcasses that they have because of the risks inherent in keeping them close. While they don't make a strict connection between the fire and the second string of chaotic attacks, Governor Gill-Jade appears on screen to implore everyone to be cautious and vigilant. There will also be increased fire inspections throughout the city to try to prevent more of these outbreaks, and she promises that all of her resources will be dedicated toward preventing further infection.

> THE WILDCARDS

> 009: SPACE Whether you're desperate for a reprieve from Earth after getting a taste of some unwanted righteous fury or curious about this century's space exploration, there are a number of opportunities available to let someone blast off. Most people will find that the process of getting into space is tedious, but also one that occurs regularly from day to day. The opportunities are there for anyone seeking a job out in the colonies, but first you'll have to get hired, or have approval for subsidy granted by the government. Journeys to the colonies are long and arduous, and what people find when they show up isn't any better. Most of the facilities are in poor condition, with food and water far more strictly rationed than back on Earth. If you'd rather just take a trip out to space without having to worry about a job, you have a number of options. Anyone can book a trip to go off planet, if they have the capital, or perhaps you'd prefer to work towards some proper credentials and join a crew. Of course, someone wishing to skip to the front of the line can always just stowaway on the back of a ship – or steal one for themselves. Just be wary of the fact that the hangars these ships are in come with increased security to match their price tags. They're hard to steal, but not impossible. As long as you know to skip the hacking and go with brute force, it should work out fine. > 010: GO NUTS This isn't all there is to explore, so feel free to branch out! Visit a doctor about some advanced cybernetics. Sneak through the city checkpoints and set out into the wilderness. Experiment with some insect based versions of your favorite recipes. Perhaps you'd prefer to engage in some illegal street racing, spend some time getting used to the technology, or make a bold declaration to become a llama farmer. Use the SETTING for inspiration and choose your own adventure.

> NAVIGATION

Comments

lexa | the 100

[trikru]

1: arrival

[The young woman standing in the corner of the room is, by initial judgment of appearances, small and subdued. A refugee on an alien world, she is remarkably quiet, speaking rarely to any of the others within the safehouse's interior. While she spends this time becoming accustomed, she can be found in a few places:

a. In the communal showers, she is wrapped in a white towel, studying her reflection in the mirror. There are three visible tattoos on her body: patterned on her right arm, an infinity symbol on her neck, and the tangle of circles straight down her spine. She has her fingers on the infinity symbol - where a long scar bisects it - but fingertips soon travel to the implant's newer mark.

b. Standing in the kitchen and examining the strange appliances with a bewildered expression. Her hair has been shaved to a boyish cut, so she's found a hood to wear over her ears, face bare of war paint.

After some time, Lexa begins... experimenting with the microwave. Should your character walk in, they will find her placing several different items (silverware, a plate, a mug, a wet dish rag...) onto the tray without food.

c. Arguing with a member of Morningstar, no longer seeming small or meek - her shoulders are squared, confidence and anger radiating from her features.]

Do you expect me to accept this? [Though not yelling, her voice carries volume.] Am I meant to become your tool, used to spy on your enemy?

2: network

@heda.leksa
I don't care how many times I have to say it. Remaining here is not an option. I won't tolerate lies and deceit. How were we brought to this place at all, yet unable to leave? That's simply not possible.

Those who choose to hide behind secrets must face me.

[Her people need her.]

3: history lessons

[She's no stranger to war. While the meaning of the festival's celebration is mysterious, Lexa is drawn to the simulations displayed by several UNA officials. It is easy to fall under the spell of virtual reality - everything is an illusion of the senses, a world of spellbinding solidity as she takes a first step into that futuristic battleground. Perhaps not so unlike many she's stood on before, provided the planet had paved its fate in another direction.

For anyone who accompanies her into the war-torn simulation, they will find her a fearsome and skillful ally against the enemy. Through it, she does not lose her sense of self or awareness of what she is in, but it does not diminish her ruthlessness.

Near the end, an accident - one which happens too quickly to correct - throws them into the direct line of fire. Lexa bears witness to the brutal slaughter of her companion in front of her. She doesn't hesitate to pull out of the simulation in suit, as they're disconnected.]

Ste yuj. You fought well.

[She sets a gloved hand on their shoulder, speaking with sincerity. The words in Trigedasleng go untranslated by the implant for now.]

1a—going full shameless here idgaf

[strove]

[Clarke had been at work when the call came in, leaving her unable to hit the ground and help bring people in. No explanations, no toiling around in a party that's meant for people to have fun. It's just a matter of getting there afterward, checking in on the first aid room to see if her supplies are in order, and then taking a shower. It's been a long, hot day outside, and what she needs most is to be clear-minded and ready.

Wrapped in a towel in the most inappropriate place for a reunion possible, Clarke finds her breath sucked out of her. Her throat is tight as she takes in the familiar tattoos, marks she memorized when she could, fingers tracing over flesh just before her lips followed them. It's not hard to make out that Lexa is Lexa. Hair or no hair—and she has a lot less, given that Lexa had entirely too much before—she knows her.]

Lexa.

[It's a simple matter of stating her name, but the pain is palpable and real. Clarke can feel her hand shaking before she bunches it up in a fist, trying to steady herself.

Lexa.

Murphy and Bellamy coming from the past should have prepared her for this possibility.

As it turns out, it didn't.]

good

[trikru]

[The shower is humid, tiles a cool contrast beneath her feet, but even a fog of steam from running water doesn't make it difficult to recognize Clarke immediately. Lexa's eyes dart across the mirror to see her familiar silhouette reflected back, realer than a dream. It's her voice which is most distinguishable, although it seems to carry a burden that Lexa doesn't understand. Her brow furrows in a slight line.]

Clarke.

[How many times have they faced one another like this, their names on each other's tongues, eyes searching for an answer to some question? Lexa's expression is more telling than any words: smooth and open, curious. It's as though she isn't surprised at all to see Clarke here. Perhaps that's not true, but it doesn't shock her - this is part of Clarke's nature, to be at the front, in the chaos.

She's also not bothered by their nudity, arms falling to her sides while concern takes over. Questions aside, something isn't right, and it has nothing to do with where they are.]

What's wrong?

[You know, besides multiverse time traveling.]

[strove]

[Of course.

Of course she doesn't know.

It's not like Clarke can just reel in her emotions, cut them away because they're a sign of weakness. She had already proved countless times over that she can't do that (and saw Lexa struggle with the same reality in turn). There's no way to reverse this sudden awareness of what's happened. She can't hide that Lexa's died, or the severe emotional pain that she feels at seeing her here—

—a victim, powerless, just like anyone else, away from her people who need her, for however long they get to have her—

partly because she doesn't think she can keep herself from touching her. Seeing her is like striking the hot coals of grief that she's tried to suppress in the weeks following the destruction of the City of Light. The same grief that nearly drove her to taking her life when it was paired with the loss of everyone else as well.]

I'm—[swallow it down.

If there's anyone who can handle the matter of her death, it's Lexa. That's what had made their parting so painful, that Lexa had just believed she would move on. But there was no one like Lexa. There would never be anyone like Lexa.

And Clarke even knows what came of her novitiates. Of what happened when Ontari was allowed to return to Azgeda.]

—I'm from your future. Our future. Your spirit has passed on, Lexa. [There's an unsteady crack in her voice. She wishes she didn't have to say it, that it didn't have to be real. That she hadn't responded this way and had been able to suppress her grief long enough to just—just be happy.]

[trikru]

[Oh.

Death alone is not a concept she finds unbelievable -- that Clarke has come from a future she hasn't experienced. When compared to the novelty which surrounds them in this place, of the new scars and bruises and disorientation... She takes Clarke at her word. Death is a known inevitability for her as Commander. She has imagined it so many times, it does not scare her. More troubling is what she sees in the other woman's reaction.]

It's all right, Clarke. It was my time.

[Her voice is lower, gentled, as she steps forward and closer into Clarke's space. Surely, then, Clarke knows what else has happened between them if she hails from a future time. No longer posed as if on the end of an invisible thread, tensed with desire -- Lexa reaches to touch her, if allowed. Palm to warm cheek. Unaware of what touch incites, the empathy bond suddenly floods between them, Lexa's calm acceptance like a deep well, alongside affection and concern. Both brighter, hotter, and more insistent.

Comforting Clarke over her own death feels both inevitable and completely natural. The blue glow that blooms to life over their sternums, however, isn't. She's startled as she draws back her hand.]

... What is this?

[strove]

[The empathy bond and its strangeness serves as a welcome distraction. When Lexa draws back her hand, Clarke is able to sober up a bit, drawing her emotions further back into herself so that she can seem more ... together. Her eyes are still puffy with tears, but it could be worse. It was worse mere seconds ago. She's at least relieved that they're far past the point in which this would be a teaching moment.]

It's one of the many changes that were done to us. We don't have any answers, but we're trying.

[Perhaps it's selfish, but she moves her hand upward to take Lexa's. It's demonstrative. The grief still sits in the pit of her stomach like a constant, and it mixes and merges together with a constant, thorough amount of guilt. They come together to form the foundation of Clarke. But beyond that, there is some ... relief that begins to form like a puddle, little bits of it coming together like droplets for her because she's allowing herself to feel it.]

It happens with every bit of contact. Every time we touch. As long as it's skin to skin. What's been done to us, it's—I'd say it's not unlike Mount Weather. [Used. Potentially thrown away. Forced to deal with what life has forced upon them. There's a surge of something hard-edged in Clarke as she makes that comparison.] Only we have no one to bring a war to, not yet.

[trikru]

[Clarke extends her hand, and were it anyone else, she would not take it. The exposure of such vulnerability goes against her nature, against all she's trained to become. What was done to them is unwilling. Wearing her emotions on her skin is hardly advantageous. But to live in a world where protecting herself from that would mean severing the contact of their skin... in the end, perhaps it's an easy choice to make.

Their fingers thread together as the bond is reengaged, blue coloring her chest. Her brow furrows in concentration, attempting to focus on the stream that flows between them as she would focus on the voices of the past Commanders. Instead, she's met with the wall of Clarke's grief, and it's enough to prick tears at the corner of her own eyes.]

So we find them.

[Steel in her voice, despite the flood of emotion she's suddenly overcome with. Difficult to tell herself from Clarke. Difficult to draw a line. She forces herself to focus again, gripping Clarke's hand tighter. Something else presses urgently on her mind.]

You've seen my future. Who has succeeded my place? [She must know, for the sake of her people.] What happened to the Coalition?

1b!

[fledges]

[Kate doesn't spend a ton of time in the safehouse anymore, considering she prefers her tiny, crappy apartment over the cramped conditions here, but she's visiting Damian today. She wanders into the kitchen, in search of an easy snack that doesn't involve bugs, when she spots Lexa's experiment.]

Hey hey hey!

[Without thinking, Kate reaches for the other girl's arm to keep her from actually starting the microwave and destroying it.]

That is definitely going to blow up, and Gaby will have a stroke.

[trikru]

[Lexa looks sharply down at the hand laid on her arm, a dark tint in her expression. Careful concentration relaxes her -- so she only yanks her arm away, as if burned. The flash of the empathy bond is brief, just a flicker of blue: Lexa's end is frustrated, annoyed, offended. Confused.

Whatever that was, she keeps her voice evenly measured.]

What is the purpose of this device, then, if not to warm objects?

[Yes, she comes from the future. No, hers did not have microwaves.]

[fledges]

It's for warming up food. If you put metal in there, it'll wreck it.

[Please don't ask Kate why. Science isn't her thing, and the conversation will just be embarrassing for everyone.]

You're new, huh?

[trikru]

I imagine that's obvious.

[Obvious questions get flat, sarcastic answers. Sorry, Kate.

More importantly:]

That light. What did you do?

[fledges]

Oh, um...

[Very, very new, then.]

Sorry about that. You know about the implants they put in our heads, right? Well, they did something else, too. If any of us touch each other, we get front row seats to each others emotions.

[trikru]

[Feelings..... Gross.]

I see. Then take care not to touch me like that again without permission, stranger.

1b

[phykios]

[ percy's similarly new, all shorn hair and fresh implant scars (joining the collection), similarly confined to the safe house. less quiet than lexa, angry (aren't they all?), and less controlled about it; the tenseness bleeds off him. what he wants is to know who in hades did this, who he needs to fight to get home. what he gets is you and everyone else, kid.

he's also expecting a monster to bust in at any minute, and weirded out it hasn't happened yet. maybe future cyberpunk monsters are lazy?? he's never yet been to a place where monsters fail to seek out demigods, so it feels like an inevitability.

anyway. insane situation or no, he still gets hungry eventually; and heads to the kitchen in time to see lexa place a wet rag into the microwave. he pauses, raises his eyebrows. ]

Okay, I've heard some weird things about the food around here, but uh. Pretty sure it's still better than that.

[ than...fabric... ]

[trikru]

[She's sealing the small door of the miniature "warming container" (a mental label she has applied) when the voice comes from over her shoulder. Turning, Lexa examines the newcomer - one similar to herself, it appears, down to the shaved scalp. The words register with her in raised brows, while the rest of her face remains studiously composed. Derisively,]

I'm not going to use it as food.

[As she says this, Lexa presses a few buttons on the face of the microwave at random. Apparently, she has selected defrost. The chamber hums as the low light blinks on through the door.]

It was a test.

[Yes, defrosting a wet rag... it's a science experiment.]

[phykios]

[ he raises his eyebrows. ]

A test of what?

[ he's not sure what kind of test involves defrosting a wet rag, but maybe it's a science experiment thing, like those baking soda volcanoes. there's something familiar about her face, though it's not literally her features -- it's her demeanor, her haughty self-assuredness. she reminds him of immortals he's met, like artemis, or fellow demigods like reyna. ]

[trikru]

To see how effective this machine is at heating the objects placed inside.

[Why do you need to know that, Lexa? Anyway...]

Who are you, and from where do you come?

[phykios]

Hold up. Are you saying you've never seen a microwave before?

[ because it sounds and looks like she's saying she's never seen a microwave before!!! ]

Percy Jackson, from New York City. Uh, Earth. What about you?

[ gods, is she an alien? please don't be an alien. ]

[trikru]

[She is saying she has never seen a microwave before.]

Heda Leksa kom Trikru. [The words are accented with the language of her people, title untranslated.] You may call me Heda, Percy from New York City.

[Does she look like an alien? Wow.]

Earth as well, but a very different one than this.

3 but altered a bit

[kometes]

[ He has mixed feelings about simulation. It's not reality. The oil he spills with each swing of his sword is digital code, but it feels cold and wet still against his skin. In spite of knowing it is fake, he relishes in the euphoria of unleashing his full strength, dashing through the battlefield uninhibited and calling attention to himself with bellowing taunts. He is flashy as he fights rather than practical, and his comrades might notice that this is entirely deliberate on his part, so as to draw the focus of the enemy army and lead them to a point that would be advantageous for his allies. It's an on-the-spot sort of strategy, and he relies on those who are adaptable to follow suit without having had the opportunity to plan ahead.

However, fighting against AI is different than fighting against other people. They learn faster, noticing and predicting patterns. This is where they fall, after cornering the enemy, only to be flanked by hidden weapons that had been positioned in the area far in advance. They get slaughtered.

In the simulation, Achilles does not have the gift of the gods. He had fought with his own skill and that alone, and though he died at the cause of his own recklessness, it was still invigorating. He's never felt so alive.

He's breathless as he pulls the helmet off of his head, looking to his partner as she approaches him. ]

So did you. You fight with the same ferocity of an Amazon warrior! [ He says this with the utmost respect, bowing his head in recognition of her power. This is a privilege he does not just give anyone, given his penchant for making enemies out of anyone he deems strong.

This woman was his ally in this fake war, though. He decides that for now, he will honour her as if they had fought beside one another for real. ]

You looked beautiful out on the battlefield.

[ His eyes are boyishly wide as he looks down at her, grinning from ear to ear and forgetting what had happened the last time he had told a female warrior that she was beautiful. ]

hdu

[trikru]

[Often now, her role as Commander prevents her from engaging in the sort of combat seen on the front lines. That does not mean she never sees it - as evidenced by her trial against Roan - but it's a rarer aspect of her duties now. Her people require a leader, someone who stands at the forefront removed from the combat of her warriors.

She is still a warrior herself, trained since she was a child, and an enemy is an enemy. No matter how they bleed.

Lexa observes how he fights up to the point of defeat with a watchful eye, picking him out from the rest of the soldiers. There is significance to the chaos of his strategy, that much is clear, even though all of the Commanders in her mind scold the display of arrogant pride.

Skill is fighting with deadly precision and cold logic. Not... whatever that was. Achilles speaks to her, and Lexa turns a haughty look onto him.]

Mind your tongue. [Sharply. You can't just flirt with Heda and get away with it. That said, her voice cools back into neutrality.] I've not heard of the warriors from Amazon. Who are they?

[kometes]

[ ... Okay. He's a little fazed by her immediate refusal of his flirtations. His smile twitches, lips pulling back tighter as he stops himself from making a stupid expression, which in turn still makes him look stupid.

He turns his head, coughing into his fist......,,,, ]

If you don't know who the Amazons were, then it's likely we aren't from the same world.

They were a tribe of warriors -- women, only. Each was a daughter of Ares, the God of War. [ The name won't hold significance to her if she isn't from his world, but the idea of god is universal. She should be impressed. ]

[trikru]

[Well, that was awkward. Lexa appears unfazed.]

In my world, the women are warriors alongside the men. I don't see how a tribe of women alone would compare to one's numerous enemies.

[Particularly when you cut out half the population... Her mind is too tuned to these strategic aspects of leadership. Then again, he claims they are descendants of a God of War.]

I suppose you meant to make this comparison a compliment.

[kometes]

They are an army from legend. Their power could still stand against any nation, I'd say. I fought their leader, myself. [ And he killed her. But he won't mention that. ]

It is a compliment.

[ He doesn't believe in his words falling short unless he's passing advances at an attractive person and being shot down, okay? ]

Who taught you to fight like that?

[trikru]

[So it is a genuine compliment. Lexa considers it, as well as the description of the Amazon women, before she responds.]

My mentor, the warrior Anya kom Trikru.

[Dead now, she does not say. A wound since pushed far back into her mind to linger with the rest, sealed out.]

You possess great skill yourself as a warrior on the battlefield. Though I wonder which you enjoy more, the attention of an audience, or the foresight of cautious strategy. I would never take you into my army.

[Not unless he learned how to take orders from her. Lexa could tell from observation alone that he was a force of his own, driven by independence.]