spacehorses | Test Drive Meme

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Test Drive Meme

Did you want to test your characters? Do you want something that you can use for an RP sample without digging up an old thread? Well, here you have it. Pick one or multiple prompts below or, if you want, make a prompt of your own. Just be sure to tag around so that everyone gets plenty of exposure.

1: Explosions in space! Space Bandits attacked the space colony everyone was visiting! Dozens of fighters and mobile armors fly through space, locked in deadly combat. Are you among those battling to save lives? Or are you watching from the windows, praying everything will be safe?

2: Explosions underground! You were part of a trading party, exchanging supplies with an underground penal colony when alien animals burrowed through the walls and started assaulting convict and Confederation member alike! What are you going to do?

3: Explosions over the city! The Colosseum is shooting off fireworks as part of a concert or a sporting event! Are you watching in the crowd, a main attraction, or watching the bright colors from the city?

4: Explosions on an asteroid! You're either observing, guarding, or mining an asteroid! It's rather dull, save for the explosions that rock the ground under your feet. It looks like it'll continue to be just as slow, but... was that something moving in the shadows there?

5: Explosions on a space station! As you approached a research station, you receive a distress signal! Fire's broken out and their systems aren't up to spec! Can you do anything? Are you a part of a scouting crew or out for a joyride in your new yacht? And is this an accident, or something more sinister?

6: Explosions at the gym! Explosive competition! Swimming, weightlifting, running, boxing, someone has just challenged you! Whether they know it or not, you're going to do your best to show them up.

7: Explosions in the past! A star has died! The Fleet is flying through the nebula it left behind, with swirls of beauty as far as the eye can see. If you're the type, you can watch it all you like.

8: Explosions on the road! Most of the traffic on the Teuberg is computer controlled, but some young showoff took his off the grid and promptly caused a wreck! Traffic has been backed up for almost half an hour now, with no way out for you and the people in your vehicle. Are you close enough to see if anyone needs help? Or are you just stuck with people who are as late for their appointments as you are?

9: Explosions in the marketplace! Explosive bargains! You're in a trading hub, surrounded by stalls of all kinds selling every type of merchandise you can imagine! Luckily, you've got enough money to handle a few purchases here. Will you buy one of those daggers on display? An incense burner? Some alien fruit? Or maybe you're on the run from the corrupt guards? Or perhaps you're the one doing the chasing, did someone just steal your wallet?

10: Explosions in your mind! The explosive inspiration that drives this world! Make up your own prompt!

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8) Explosions on the Road.

[Data arrived on the scene just moments after the wreck, attempting to extract the young hoodlum driver from his land car. Impossibly strong android fingers are peeling away pressed aluminum and steel like it's tissue paper, his face eerily blank as he works. He'll attempt to get the computerized traffic up and running again shortly, but for now, he's trying to save the life.]

10) Explosions in your mind!

[Even androids can drink. Small amounts. Very small amounts. Data has learned by a monkey-see, monkey-do method of social interaction, and knows that beverages are an intrinsic part of humanoid culture. So, he modified his insides just enough to sip small amounts of liquid, collect the liquid, and then dispose of it later in private. Join him in a drink, won't you?]

[[With Data's encyclopedic knowledge, I think a little canon puncturing here could be quite amusing once they are properly introduced.]]

Sitting just slightly further along the bar from Data is a rather depressed looking human barely touching the glass in front of him, but just staring into space looking like his whole world has fallen apart. Boromir had drifted towards the bar after having his sword taken from him, and asked for a flagon of ale. What he received was something that, despite having the vague taste, smell, and feel of ale, fell far short on what he was looking for. The receptacle felt all wrong too.

Data is good at seeing things. What he's not good at is processing human emotion. So he sees the sad human in ancient clothes, and his curiosity is piqued. Data approaches Boromir with what he hopes is a sympathetic look, and cocks his head sideways.

"Do you require a sympathetic ear?"

Boromir looks up to see yet another strange humanoid, this one with a somewhat goblin cast to his face.

"Do I..." He just looks back at his drink and shakes his head. "Friend, I wouldn't even known where to start."

"Why not start at the beginning? I understand that it is a very good place to start."

He perches himself on the next stool, his own drink held at a precisely calculated angle which infers casual relaxation. Yes, he's put a lot of work into appearing casual.

"Well how about I start with the fact that, to all intents and purposes, I am dead?" Boromir slams down the glass, slopping some of the drink over his hand and sleeve."No man with as many arrows in him as I had has any place amongst the living, yet here I am with barely a scratch to show for it!"

His left hand wanders subconsciously to a spot just below his heart, where an orcish arrow had taken him at the battle of Amon Hen.

That gets another mildly perplexed look, his mouth turning down slightly.

"Am I to understand that you have experienced death in your home dimension, then? Interesting. Perhaps, based on the information we all received upon our awakenings, you were 'rescued' from your world at a point where death was an inevitability. That would imply that an intelligence is behind our arrivals here. Do you not wish to be amongst the living any more?"

"What I wish is of no..." He starts, obviously frustrated and anxious. "Tis not natural. I felt the icy hand of death take me and..." He trails off again. He drinks some of his drink, alcohol should help with a situation like this but the awful ale is practically undrinkable.

"And I knew it was the end. Nay I have lost enough friends and fellow soldiers in battle to recognise when death comes to a man at the last and that is exactly what happened that day." He takes another drink.

That's surprising, although Data cannot react with emotions. He just continues to listen, and when he's certain Boromir is done speaking, he risks another assessment.

"If I may be so bold, perhaps this is an opportunity for you to have a second chance at life? Do not dwell on the past; instead, look to the future you can build here, away from the source of your pain."

"The source of my pain?" Boromir looks Data dead in the eye. "I died fighting to defend two of my companions from the orcs that took them over my broken body. Merry and Pippin are either dead or in the hands of the Enemy now because I failed them." Data's unblinking gaze starts to unnerve him and he looks back to his drink.

"I would give anything to be sent back there to right that."

"...Acessing."

Data's face goes blanker than usual, as he tries to rectify the information he's been given. Oh dear.

"Merry and Pippin, to wit, two Hobbits from Bree who accompany Frodo on his quest to throw the One Ring into Mount Doom. I am well versed in all the stories of Middle Earth, having downloaded them all. Am I in the company of one of the sons of Gondor?"

"How do you know that?" Boromir's head snaps around just as he goes to take a drink. He had not told anyone of his quest apart from that it was of dire import. Data's strange speach and stranger actions are instantly forgotten before Boromir could even notice them.

"I am Boromir, son of Denethor. Who are you to know of myself and my companions so casually?"

"Boromir, son of Denethor. You are a fictional construct of one J.R.R. Tolkien, British fantasy author of some renown. The world of Middle Earth is very popular, and much beloved."

And there's absolutely no hesitation in laying this on him, not even the 'fictional' part. Data you really need to learn to filter yourself.

[[I know you wrote stories, not histories, but I misremembered it at first so I decided that Boromir misheard it.]]

"Flames of Morgoth what are you babbling about, man?" Boromir's eyes narrow as he regards Data suspiciously. He does not like the look of Data one bit, from the odd complexion to the too constant eyes. Even the way he talks is utterly alien.

"You call it a history and then in the next breath call it a fantasy?"

The expression on his face is guileless and innocent. And a little confused. In a 'does not compute' fashion.

"But it is a fantasy. In fact, many literary critics cite it as the ultimate in the fantasy genre, with many other authors using it as a template for their derivative works. I do not understand why you are upset."

Boromir just sits and looks at the android in blank confusion. He is actually speachless and utterly confused, and really wishes he had some better tasting alcohol than the muck he has in front of him. He opens his mouth to say something and just flaps it closed again. What do you say to a madman who turns up with intimate knowledge of your life and then tells you that your home is a fantasy?

What do you say to this madman when he tells you this mere days after you have been killed, brought back to the dead by sorcery, and had your world turned inside out in the most casual of ways by everyone you meet?

[Kay what are you even doing here, you're not old enough to drink.

Not like it stops her from sipping a mean bit of clear soda as she slides up. Really, Data had piqued her interest for a number of reasons. For one, he was some odd mix of porcelain and snowman for a skin tone. This man clearly didn't get out much.

The other reason is the fact that he's alone. That's got to be awkward.

What better way to make it less awkward than to have a teenage girl sit next to you?]

So.

...So?

[Data just cocks his head sideways at Kay, that same blank and vaguely polite look on his face.]

Good evening. I am Lieutenant Commander Data of the star ship Enterprise. I do not believe we have met.

So.

[Well, you're not shoving her away just yet, so that means you're good in her book.

But as soon as he introduces herself, cue the jaw-drop.]

Wait, a STAR SHIP Lieutenant? Like in the movies?

I have watched many movies about military life; I suppose you are correct. Yes, like in the movies. Although my particular ship is not fodder for movies, in my opinion. It is simply a place of business and life.

...

So you're serious. You're really on a starship. In space.

The final frontier.

[She's just making sure on this, really!]

[It's not until she's halfway through sipping her own cup of tea - straight black because what does she care of taste - that she finally states flatly:]

This appears to be an exercise with no purpose.

[Holding his own drink up, he glances at the girl and shakes his head once.]

Not so. A social cue can be derived from the imbibing of beverages, which can lead to new understanding of humans and other life forms. That is the ultimate purpose, understanding. Is it not?

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Test Drive Meme

Data | Star Trek TNG

10.

I am always down for 4th walling :D

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works for me!

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10.

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