space_aces (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
space_aces) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thegreatspacerace2022-09-28 07:29 pm
space_aces) wrote in thegreatspacerace2022-09-28 07:29 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME #1
WHERE ANGELS FEAR TO TREAD
Your journey only happened because of your benefactor, so it begets that it starts at your benefactor as well. SUPERBIA, which is as much of a location as it is an entity, is where everyone's search for Fortuna begins.
There's not much of a welcome party: shortly after their fateful encounter with SUPERBIA, in which they swore to join the quest to find Fortuna, the new Privateers will find themselves afflicted by a sudden change in perspective. See, teleportation is a tricky process, so from SUPERBIA's point of view, why not make the target destination none other than itself? One highly disconcerting moment later, and the Privateers find themselves inside the belly of the beast.
The vast mega-structure is shockingly lonely, void of anyone other than the Privateers. Those who look off the metal satellite and to The Network for intelligence (or take a skim at the Space Wikipedia article) will find out that the surrounding space is clear for lightyears; rumors have it that the place is cursed. It won't take long to understand why.
There's not much of a welcome party: shortly after their fateful encounter with SUPERBIA, in which they swore to join the quest to find Fortuna, the new Privateers will find themselves afflicted by a sudden change in perspective. See, teleportation is a tricky process, so from SUPERBIA's point of view, why not make the target destination none other than itself? One highly disconcerting moment later, and the Privateers find themselves inside the belly of the beast.
The vast mega-structure is shockingly lonely, void of anyone other than the Privateers. Those who look off the metal satellite and to The Network for intelligence (or take a skim at the Space Wikipedia article) will find out that the surrounding space is clear for lightyears; rumors have it that the place is cursed. It won't take long to understand why.
1Overclocked
The innards of SUPERBIA are that of an impossibly scaled up computer, and the Privateers start right in the middle of it. You are the spider living in the dusty PS4. Literal rivers of coolant, transistors the size of mountains, landscapes made entirely of circuitry. The sky, bounded by a distant metal ceiling, is constantly alight with coursing electricity that cracks the sky with lightning storms. It can be assumed that the Privateers are the first living things to set foot here, because such a place is not ever meant to be traversed by delicate, organic, mortals that worry about things such as "temperature" or "voltage". SUPERBIA needs not lifeforms to continue its operations; why design for them? Traversal itself is difficult: unscalable walls and perilous drops are common to encounter. The only company the Privateers will find are oddly adorable maintenance robots, which sadly seem too occupied by their directives of maintaining the massive machine to offer any assistance (or even acknowledgement of their new guests).
It is immediately clear that the most urgent priority is to get the hell out of here. Before your adventure ends at the starting line.
It is immediately clear that the most urgent priority is to get the hell out of here. Before your adventure ends at the starting line.
2Skeletons In The Closet
If one stays inside SUPERBIA, either by getting horribly lost or losing all common sense, one will notice a peculiar pattern emerge as one gets deeper into the bowels of the mega-structure. Passages shrink and become more level, and the incredible hostility and danger of the surroundings fade away, until one comes across areas which were definitely intended for humanoid organisms to use at one point.
The construction of these areas is cramped, unfurnished, and dreary; they are reminiscent of artificial environments meant to handle harsh external conditions like a submarine or bunker, but they are entirely livable. One can eventually find distinct rooms, but everything in them has crumbled to dust and their original purpose is nigh impossible to discern. Deeper investigation may reveal the few items that have stood the test of time. While it is more plausible for life to have existed here, that doesn't seem to be the case now. What happened here?
The construction of these areas is cramped, unfurnished, and dreary; they are reminiscent of artificial environments meant to handle harsh external conditions like a submarine or bunker, but they are entirely livable. One can eventually find distinct rooms, but everything in them has crumbled to dust and their original purpose is nigh impossible to discern. Deeper investigation may reveal the few items that have stood the test of time. While it is more plausible for life to have existed here, that doesn't seem to be the case now. What happened here?
3The Shipyard
In the opposite direction, when one finally reaches the outer edges of SUPERBIA, they will be rewarded with the place to pick up a spaceship and a stunningly beautiful view of outer space. The outside of SUPERBIA has no atmosphere to get between you and the stars, and they shine brightly, like a beacon calling one out into the first steps of adventure.
The shipyard is already filled with countless space ships of every size, form, and function, all autonomously constructed by SUPERBIA's factories over the countless years. What's the harm in taking one or twenty out for a spin? Even if one has no intentions of permanent ownership of the vehicle, it's not like SUPERBIA will miss it. For a Privateer with a more specific vision, however, there are kiosks around the yard which will allow one to design their very own space ship down to their exact specifications. When the process is done SUPERBIA's matter printers will have it out and space-ready right before your very eyes.
If a Privateer has a ship, vehicle, or large item that they intended to bring with them, they will also find them here, neatly parked in the Shipyard. Why didn't SUPERBIA extend this courtesy to the pilot's themselves? The answer is revealed as soon as the owner makes a closer inspection: the inner contents have been rearranged, like a whirlwind was unleashed inside and assorted loose items thrown around. Now aren't you glad your transportation was given special attention, and the same didn't happen to your innards?
The shipyard is already filled with countless space ships of every size, form, and function, all autonomously constructed by SUPERBIA's factories over the countless years. What's the harm in taking one or twenty out for a spin? Even if one has no intentions of permanent ownership of the vehicle, it's not like SUPERBIA will miss it. For a Privateer with a more specific vision, however, there are kiosks around the yard which will allow one to design their very own space ship down to their exact specifications. When the process is done SUPERBIA's matter printers will have it out and space-ready right before your very eyes.
If a Privateer has a ship, vehicle, or large item that they intended to bring with them, they will also find them here, neatly parked in the Shipyard. Why didn't SUPERBIA extend this courtesy to the pilot's themselves? The answer is revealed as soon as the owner makes a closer inspection: the inner contents have been rearranged, like a whirlwind was unleashed inside and assorted loose items thrown around. Now aren't you glad your transportation was given special attention, and the same didn't happen to your innards?
4Hot Crewmates in Your Area
But how will a single Privateer man an entire space ship? No worries: when one steps into a ship, the strangely endearing maintenance robots will suddenly take acute interest. The robots will follow inside and immediately start assuming the duties of a spacefarer, eliminating the need for extra hands on deck.
Even still, there's just no eliminating the want for a human touch, though. Thankfully even that dilemma has a contingency plotted by SUPERBIA.
Communication devices are easily available on every space ship. They come in all shapes and sizes, ranging from huge stationary consoles to portable smartphone-like screens. But whenever a Privateer attempts to access the Network, a pop-up will appear, obscuring the whole screen.
The device will be rendered unusable until one relents to the pop-up's demands and provides answers to its questions. What will these be used for? The mystery will be solved when a social media app mysteriously installs itself on the same device, with profiles preemptively made for every Privateer. Each Privateer's profile consists of their given answers, paired with embarrassingly candid photographs. SUPERBIA has eyes in many places it seems.
Even still, there's just no eliminating the want for a human touch, though. Thankfully even that dilemma has a contingency plotted by SUPERBIA.
Communication devices are easily available on every space ship. They come in all shapes and sizes, ranging from huge stationary consoles to portable smartphone-like screens. But whenever a Privateer attempts to access the Network, a pop-up will appear, obscuring the whole screen.
The device will be rendered unusable until one relents to the pop-up's demands and provides answers to its questions. What will these be used for? The mystery will be solved when a social media app mysteriously installs itself on the same device, with profiles preemptively made for every Privateer. Each Privateer's profile consists of their given answers, paired with embarrassingly candid photographs. SUPERBIA has eyes in many places it seems.
Red Savarin | Solatorobo: Red the Hunter
At first, Red was taking all of this... relatively well. All things considered.
Gigantic otherworldly supercomputers unfathomable in scale and function weren't anything he could claim to have understood, but he had, at least, encountered- if not stared down or delved into- similar entities before. He knew through experience that they were a 'thing'.
But once he'd found those old dwellings- and within, what was plainly an old capped-off glass beverage bottle, full of some unspeakable liquid clearly aeons past expiration that no supergiant supercomputer could have any practical use for- that familiarity started feeling sobering.
Was the end of an entire civilization just... common? Common enough to see remains of it twice and nearly witness it firsthand? He sighed quietly, tapping the bottle against his hand in thought.
And then a sudden, sharp hissing sound. He glanced down to see the bottle's cap loosened, its contents spilling across his hands.
"...oh, furballs."
3A - Customization
Whatever melancholy he'd had in the lower layers seemed to have left him outright; now he was bright-eyed and wag-tailed as he mixed and matched and experimented with all the different ways he would soon be making his very own spaceship. His own spaceship!
His own spaceship!! This was going to be amazing. His first take was a deft little starfighter brimming over with weapons; flashy red paint on one of its wings, massive missiles at its sides and a huge forward-facing laser pod on top.
...But, wait, no, if he just went with something that small he wouldn't be able to put in a decent lounge. And it wouldn't be able to carry all those weapons, either... okay, he could fix this. He'd just get a <>big craft, instead; an airborne fortress, complete with a proper bridge and a lounge, with big burst-missile ports on top and a landing bay for fighters and--
--Hold on, that would be slow as heck. And it'd probably need a small fleet just to refuel it. Okay. Starting over... and the process repeated several more times, before he'd just ask the nearest passerby for guidance.
"How many bathrooms do you think a good spaceship needs?" Clearly this dog was in the weeds, now.
3B - Faithful
There was perhaps only one thing that could pull him from the promise of a new, custom-made spacecraft... and that was his old, custom-built mecha, the DAHAK Mk. II. wasn't very big, being a single-occupant vehicle, and didn't seem particularly battle-ready at a glance, either, so it could have passed for some sort of spaceship drydock cargo loader.
Unfortunately, it also look like it had arrived at its destination after falling down a massive set of stairs and then handled by a disgruntled deliveryman. Half of its limbs were bent out of place, and half of his tools were wedged in the joints.
Suffice to say, once he'd finished muttering weirdly family-friendly curses, he had to set aside the glamor of spacecraft ownership to spend a while fixing up the thing on the docks...
4 - Pet Photos
Eventually, his answers joined the others on the app.
Tell me a little about yourself.
I'm Red Savarin, robot pilot and hunter-for-hire, and that treasure's as good as mine!
Are you a LEADER or a FOLLOWER?
I think I'm a natural born leader! But I usually just end up taking whatever jobs I can find.
What is your best feature?
I don't know when to quit! Once I get down to work, there's just no stopping me!
What followed was a photograph of a bipedal dog-man, dressed only in a pair of jeans, and hanging up his coat, work shirt, and several sets of underwear to dry on a bespoke laundry line strung across the back of a spacecraft's helm. Whether or not it was 'flattering' was probably up to the personal tastes of the beholder.
X - Wild Card
Got an idea? Hit me up at
Customization
"Oh, well, mine has only one in it, with five toilets inside, three sinks. Why do you ask?" It was a question with an obvious answer, but Hermes still needs to find a captain.
no subject
...walking... talking machine. Maybe that explained why they could have arrived as such a bizarre situation.
"Five in one room? You do know what we use those for, right?"
no subject
While Hermes's tone is teasing, he also had some genuinely helpful information in what he said. Hermes pats this person on the back, partly to dissuade his fears and partly to fish around for a wallet to take.
no subject
"I have," he said, a hint of displeasure and uncomfortable-if-inevitable experiences on his tongue. "And I think I'd like somethin' with a little more privacy. And my crew would thank me for it, too."
no subject
"You can always do five separate bathrooms with five toilets, five mirrors, five sinks, and five showers, but then, you'd have less room for everything else. JustTheOneBathroom IsLessCostlyAnd MoreSpaceEfficient!" Of note is that Hermes is just pointing out a pro to using only a single bathroom. He's not being forceful about it at all, and his tone of voice means he'll relent if Red continued to argue for more bathrooms.
no subject
A small, stylish case used for carrying those ever-so-popular and macho items for satisfying a canine oral fixation. Most humans, on the other hand, would probably prefer cigars.
Current contents: three bones.
"Then I could do three bathrooms and still let everyone do their business in peace. That's a big priority for those of us that actually have to use 'em, y'know."
"Or should I have everyone just share the same bed, too?"
no subject
"I mean. It's an option. It could be really cute having you all snuggle together!" Hermes has already started a hypothetical polyship involving this person and his crewmates.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
Faithful
A moment's cursory examination later, she half-growled, "What'd they do, throw 'er down the stairs? Bugger me..."
no subject
...a slow, creaking glance aside at his beloved machine. Who was he kidding; if he tried to do this all himself he'd probably have given the other privateers a day's head start by the time he was done.
He gave a heavy sigh, leaning against the DAHAK's frame. A panel slipped open, and several tools fell out to clatter against the drydock's floor.
A second look was turned toward the small stranger. "...you're good with machines?"
no subject
no subject
"Red Savarin. And this troubled piece of hardware is the DAHAK Mk II. She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, Tok."
The DAHAK lurched forward slightly, clanking against itself. Its pilot gave a groan of displeasure.
"...go ahead and start by tryin' to get the arms all straightened out. I'm gonna take a peek inside, make sure everything's where it's supposed to be in there."
With that, he vaulted atop the slumped mech's back, and popped open a particularly large panel.
"What'd you usually work with?"
no subject
"Clockworks an' golems, mostly. Ain't magic meself, but if you've got the knowing, you can still make it work. Never seen a joint design like this..." As she moved the left arm, she had to admire the craftsmanship. Flexible arms, but clearly built for heavy lifting. She was itching to pull out her notebook, but that wouldn't have helped. The arms were strangely flat, only... not quite. Like an airship's fin, almost. Was this intended to fly? Ah, one of those plates was completely bent inward, preventing the arm from moving like it should. That could be fixed, though.
"Ain't she champion. Who designed this?"
no subject
Though he did seem to mentally sputter for a second at the question of its maker. That wasn't the easiest question to answer plainly.
"...A good friend," he eventually answered, as he pulled himself out from under the panel and slammed it shut. "And their work held up. Everything's in place."
The panel slowly creaked open again. He pushed it back down, a little more insistently this time.
"...everything's in place on the inside. I'll check the seat. And lemme know if you find a rubber mallet up in there."
no subject
Based on what she'd seen here, probably her 'pet project' wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. She lowered her goggles, and removed one glove while he was busy, revealing brass and steel instead of scale and skin, a glowing orange jewel socketed in the back of a metallic hand- and commenced the process of fixing the dent, heating the metal and bending it back into place "Don't see a mallet... but if you can't find it, I always carry a spare or three. That should do for now, but you might want t'replace third armor plate on't left arm, when you have the time."
1/2
2/2
so would the expression be sacré meuh if he were a cat
(no subject)
(no subject)
3a
His lips tug into a subtle frown, confused.
"None."
After all, convenient amenities have nothing to do with spaceflight. Wing Zero's birdmode has zero bathrooms, and it flew remarkably.
no subject
Red stared back, incredulous and disbelieving. That answer just flat-out refused his attempts to unpack it. This guy had to be joking. Right?... right?
But the passerby showed no hints of a smile. Just a bit of a confused scowl. Maybe he just had the mother of all poker faces. Scratch that-- from a look at that face he was making, maybe he actually lacked an anus.
"You're serious? How is the crew supposed to... y'know..."
no subject
Flat-out refusing to unpack a conversation? Couldn't be Heero Yuy"Flight suits."
Heero's expression remains still as stone, but there's a subtle impatience in his tone that suggests he suspects Red might be simple. The idea that a spacefaring man can't even fathom a ship without bathrooms or a full crew is somehow more distressing than the fact that the pilot he's speaking to seems to be a dog-person.
(Of course he has an anus? For the stick.)
no subject
Once he does, however...
"...really?"
He unconsciously starts to match the boy's deadpan, but still takes a moment to mull it over, thoughtfully grinding his teeth against the bone in his mouth.
"You think havin' them in the clothes is a better option?"
no subject
"If necessary," Heero answers flatly. He'd never said it was the best option, don't misunderstand. "Most environmental suits are equipped."
2
-yeah, at any rate, she's in awe over the absolutely bonkers scale of this thing, all the actual NOT HUMAN PEOPLE? Like this furry dude who just sealed his fate.
Elle ducks behind a doorway. "...I'll find a hazmat suit and come back for your body. RIP."
no subject
He turned towards Elle, ichorous black dripping ominously down from his fingers.
"D-don't say that!! It'll be fine, probably, just-- help me find some way of gettin' this off my hands!"
Ugh, and it smelled like burnt... sugary... artificially-flavored motor oil. And something told him they'd have a hard time finding a source of running water down here...
no subject
"Well I don't have any industrial solvents on me." Which would also, melt his flesh off his bones. "...how do you feel? Is it eating you alive?"
no subject
"I-- I dunno?? It just kind of itches, I guess..."
His troubled gaze lifted from his hands to his fellow visitor.
"Is that bad?"
no subject
"Well, it could be nothing, or you could be dying, so I guess... I dunno." How conclusive.