TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[space_aces]

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.

1

Overclocked

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.

2

Skeletons 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?

3

The 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?

4

Hot 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.

Tell me a little about yourself. Are you a LEADER or a FOLLOWER? What is your best feature?
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.

Comments

infel | ar tonelico 2

[lyalyuma]

a. overclocked
[Infel isn't a stranger, necessarily, to massive computers. She's spent the past 450 years or so inside a giant floating server - perhaps in a less literal sense than this one, but she's definitely been physically inside the floating server, too, back before her sublimation. She's used to navigating messy circuitry.]

[Infel Phira absolutely had better heat dissipation capabilities than this????. Having a physical body after 450 years is terrible. She would not recommend the experience.]

[The dim glow of overheated components reflects off Infel's face as she pulls herself up a particularly thick cable; her feet slip off the metal surface of the cliff, then plant themselves again, then slip again. It seems to take ages for her to make her way up, and it gets more and more nerve-wracking as she inches and inches away from the crackling landscape below her.]

[At the top, she collapses in a heap... But then she raises her head to look in wonder over the face of the cliff. The view, treacherous as it is, is brilliant - almost akin to looking out on a built-out desert, it pulses with "life" even in its colorlessness.]

[Despite it being the Worst Experience Ever, she's smiling.] Field research, after this long...

b. skeletons in the closet
[Mentally, Infel's more stimulated than she's been in years. Physically, she's dead exhausted. For so long, she's been doing whatever she wanted without regard for things like "hunger" or "exhaustion" or "aging"; the ceiling has fallen in on her now, and she's really feeling the years.]

[Yes, she only looks in her twenties, but third-generation Reyvateils don't usually live past forty anyway.]

[Thus, she sits on the floor as she opens a console in... What seems to be the first interesting room in the twenty or so she's entered already. As she attempts to turn it on, she remains sitting. The "on" switch refuses to budge, even as she leans her entire upper body into it, ]

[In a soft soprano, just in case:] jYAzLYAtA/. [With my respect towards you and towards this whole place, execute my command. The console does not respond.]

[SIGH.] I don't know what I expected.

c. oh god oh no
[She likes this one, she's decided. It's not huge, but is enough to have a little lab for herself. There's a second seat in the cockpit, into which she's strapped a purple stuffed rabbit for now - but for Nenesha, when she comes back. When I get her back. We don't need Metafalica, or anything to do with that dying husk of a planet; we can find a place just for us. Everything has always been for her research and for Nenesha. This is no different.]

[The Heart of the Land tucked away in her lab - a massive blue gem, surrounded by gold scaffolding - spins, as if in agreement.]

[As she turns on the tablet-style communicator with that wish deep in her heart, it presents her with what appears to be a... A request for a personals ad? Mortified and baffled, she drops her head into her hands and groans aloud.]

[In fact, that's the photo SUPERBIA chooses for her profile! Other greatest hits include: a photo of her shrieking as her footing slips on a steep slope, slipping her ever closer to a river of glowing coolant; a photo of her hugging aforementioned Heart of the Land, with the same tenderness she might hold a lover; and a photo of her looking deeply unimpressed.]

Tell me a little about yourself. I'm Infel, a Wave Theory researcher.

Are you a LEADER or a FOLLOWER? What? That's too much personal information. [When the system refuses to accept this as valid:] I follow my ideals, and nothing else.

What is your best feature? I'd tell you, but I don't want to be featured on the next episode of whatever this is. [ZING??????.]

b

[miraclekiller]

[ Carol on the other hand, was coming in from the other direction, not particularly impressed by room after room of dusty nothingness which had so far dominated the once-living quarters of the space station.

The cold steel of the facilities have stories to tell, but none of it is as useful as actual data.

The first interesting thing she finds is the older looking woman sitting on the floor, trying to get a console to turn on. Not many living things in here for a start, and a computer which might still be in working condition is a huge bonus. However, that's not what catches her attention first. The song reaches her before the visuals. ]

I do not believe there are computers which respond to songs, and in any case without putting some spirit into it you're not going to get enough Phonic Gain.

[ Songs. It always comes back to songs. ]

shoot, so sorry - work ate me for a moment there!!

[lyalyuma]

[Who is this child--]

[Infel doesn't know whether to be annoyed or intrigued, so she settles in-between: a blank look on her face, as though explaining something basic to a child.] Less the Symphonic Power and more the words themselves in this case - the language has its own power - but there certainly are computers which respond to songs. Rather than using electricity alone, they use Songstones for wave conversion instead. Just because your world hasn't caught up...

[SHRUG. ... But she turns around to face Carol nevertheless, letting the console's blank screen look at her back rather than her face for a change.] It sounds like our worlds might have a few things in common, though. That's a start.

it's okay we are all busy adults here

[miraclekiller]

[ A voice lock then, or generally responding to specific verbal comments. She's very familiar with the former, having used voice recognition protection on much of her equipment as for the latter, well, she's lived through the first half of the 21st century, she knows how that works. ]

You mean something like "hey Siri, please compile all data on past residents of this station?"

[ AND THEN IT BOOTS UP AND DOES EXACTLY THAT

There is, of course, no response to the computer. The Apple company's claws have not reached all the way into outer space... Yet. ]

I would find it very unlikely that whoever used to live here speaks any language we would recognise. The tone of a song might be universal, but without anyone alive to hear it...

[ Moon is no longer cursed, but Carol still doesn't speak the language of the gods.

And speaking of the gods: ]

The technology to convert phonic gain into power might be lost technology, but it just sounds inconvenient to be singing while working at a computer.

[lyalyuma]

[She doesn't get the reference, so elects to ignore it... Although the idea of Raki as a domestic house AI would give her some sick joy, certainly.]

[Nevertheless, she listens, fighting back a twinge (and then a rush) of annoyance. Here's a kid, lecturing her on things she's devoted her entire life to... But just so different that the kid might be right, in her own world.]

[Either way, she can't help but be a little smug.] --Lost technology? Okay, yeah, your world has some catching up to do.

Anyway, Songs are waves, like anything [oh god, literally everything] else; the "listener," or rather the one to absorb the emotional component of those waves, is the Songstone itself... Or, presumably, whatever lost technology you have over where you were. It's a server, rather than a client terminal; sometimes you're inputting from a distance.

Hopefully, that crests a wave of understanding over you. [ZING!!!!!!.]

a

[tach_nology]

[Looking considerably less winded, though still sweaty in her oversized lab coat and tights, is a woman with horse ears and tail giving a similar look of excitement.]

Exhilarating, isn't it? It's an entirely new frontier out here!

sorry, work consumed me there! i'm back tho :^)

[lyalyuma]

[Is that a fucking horse girl in a lab coat? What kind of mascot character is this, now?]

[She's cute enough, certainly, but still... ????]

[You know what, though? She's just going to take it as it is, and the girl as she is - there, interacting with her, and also wearing a lab coat.]

I have to admit, I was getting a little bored where I was. [Yes, bored is the word for it. Not bitter about the Metafalica thing at all.] I don't quite have all my physical strength back [like she had any at all??? please, noodle-arms, get it together], but this could definitely be fun.

[tach_nology]

Haha... I can understand the feeling. Though I certainly didn't expect anything as extreme as this right off the bat! [She says "extreme" almost jokingly, even though obviously their situation is, in every definition, extreme. Maybe it's a way of coping.] I take it your studies don't involve as much physical activity usually?

[lyalyuma]

[The truth is that she usually got other people to do her dirty work for her - letting others carry out dangerous experiments, the whole "war against the Goddess" thing... Instead, she just says:] Nothing like this. My expertise is in physics, Wave Theory specifically; it's not the most hazardous thing in the world.

[In any case, she's not going anywhere fast; oppressive as the heat may feel right now, she's certainly not up to making any grand escapes. In the meantime, she might as well talk to this... Girl. Horse? Horse-girl? Mascot character? Girl. As though every muscle in her body isn't crying out for help, she folds her hands behind her head and lays back against the toasty metal floor.] And yours?

[tach_nology]

[Seeing that they weren't going anywhere soon, Tachyon crouched down near the other woman, leaning an elbow on her knee and her chin on that hand, concealed by an overly large sleeve.]

Ah, while I do dabble in the theoretical sciences, most of my work is in the practical. My main focus is physical health and biology, specifically in regards to sports. [She laughs] It may not change our understanding of the world itself, but I think there is great potential to be unlocked in horse girls.

[lyalyuma]

[Sports. Well... She doesn't know what she should have expected.]

[Infel isn't too familiar with recreational sports; most people with physical ability joined the Knights of the Grand Bell or otherwise took up arms. Fighting for survival, clawing the few leaves the barren ground was willing to give, left little time for recreation for most. Hell, if she hadn't literally discovered the medicine used to keep third-generation Reyvateils alive - an incredible breakthrough in its own right - she wouldn't be here.]

[She figures this girl probably came from a much more peaceful world than she did.]

[Wistfully:] Well, that is what we all want to do, don't we? To transcend our limitations. [A cramp rockets up her side, as though to remind her of her own; she hisses in pain, nursing the offending muscle.] I'm still getting used to having a physical body again, so there's a lot to transcend there. Then again, Reyvateil biology is indistinguishable from physics anyway, so who knows.

[tach_nology]

Oh? [She perks up in interest at that, looking her over more curiously.] So you're not a human? Or more importantly, you implied that for a period of time, you existed without a physical body?

[Her tail swishes behind her impatiently. Clearly this has gotten her attention.]