interstellar404 | TEST DRIVE MEME: THE SELF TITLED ALBUM

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TEST DRIVE MEME: THE SELF TITLED ALBUM

☆WELCOME TO INTERSTELLAR
And welcome to our first TDM! We've got two types of prompts to use this time around: the first takes place while your character is in the process of being captured, and the second is during their first brainwashed rockstar tour. The former is designed to be considered 100% game canon if you make it in officially, while the later is more speculative and will only work if you get lucky during label and band selection.

☆THE TALENT SEARCH
These prompts are design to be kept as game canon after acceptance, and can be used as the official story of how your character was captured. Importantly, the kidnappers entering your timeline causes massive time distortions, which means that the outcome of this scenario will stagger and replay itself multiple times before settling on an outcome. This means that after the fact, you character may remember being captured multiple ways, or going in more than one direction, before the timeline settled on a final path. Or at least, they'll remember this until their memories are wiped shortly afterwards, but that's okay! That's what memory regains are for. Read this page for more specifics on this situation. Any powers the characters have will be weakened and prone to malfunction to the point of uselessness.

►A1) THE SEARCH: It always starts out this way, doesn't it? At some point in your life, you were just doing your thing, wherever you call home. Then, all at once, it's like you've been torn from your dimension by the roots. Time and space displace, and it's like you've been shifted one layer of reality to the left - like some kind of subspace where you can see your reality through it, like a rainbow surrealist image of your home. Even if you can see this ghost image of where you were, you can't interact with it meaningfully. Any friends or family are somewhere else. As you begin to wander, without any other options, you'll find that the scenery gradually shifts to ghost images of other places, other worlds. If you wander long enough, you'll even find other people, lost just like you are. But you probably won't have much time - you've been brought here for a reason, after all.

►A2) THE HUNT: It could happen almost immediately, or it could happen hours later - but, at some point, your dimensional kidnappers start to do their sweep. Space Men in black body suits and gas masks pursue you on foot and in small spaceships, trying to sweep you and the other displaced up like fish in a net. Their guns contain a weird pink gas that will knock out most with only a single breath - and for those more enduring, they have the heavy artillery, like electrical nets and guns. The fallen will be sealed up into stasis pods for transport and loaded onto the ships, which seem like the only way to get out of this place by choice. This is where it ends, but are you going to put up a fight?

☆THE MAGIC TOUR BUS
By default, these prompt aren't considered canon, but if after you are accepted and sorted they can be tweaked into working for you, it'll be totally okay to keep them as a part of your rockstar's personal history. They take place after being kidnapped and brainwashed, on your character's first tour under their new label. As it turns out, it seems like brainwashing aliens isn't the only thing the abductees have to worry about.

►B1) PLAY IT STRAIGHT: It's just another day on the tour bus, in between long stretches of highway. How do you fill your time? Do you practice your instrument, or do you take full advantage of the open bar? Do you sulk and try go to bed early? Do you yell at your bandmates for ruining the toilet? Do you troll people on Twitter? Tours being what they are, everyone is probably at least a little bit tired or cranky. Just don't do anything that will get the Manager on your ass, because that's always more trouble than it's worth.

►B2) THAT'S NORMAL: The Managers aren't here, as far as you can tell, leaving you in a moment of relative relaxation. Something about those guys just make you uneasy, and they're always shoving you around and making you do things you don't really want to. However, these moments of peace don't last long, because it stars to become increasingly apparent that your tour bus might be...haunted? Whether its the bus turning on without a driver and without a key, wine glasses falling off tables, or guitar static sounding like frantic whispering, things are starting to get weird. Yet, at the same time, something in your subconscious is strongly suggesting that you should ignore it, and that everything is normal and fine...

►B3) THEN WHO WAS GUITAR?: These weird experiences eventually culminate in a kind of phantom music bleeding in from the air around you. The source is impossible to discern but it's somehow...familiar? Like something that played at an important moment in your life, even if the event itself just won't come to mind. What's weirder, is that everyone seems to hear something different. It gets to you in a way that your programming doesn't like - but how do you react? Reluctantly take it in, or throw a fit until it stops?

☆HELPFUL INFO
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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ A1/A2.

It's all pretty much one in the same where Tucker's capture is concerned. What he knows is this: he was on Chorus, doing his Captain thing, and now he's not. Weaponless and confused, just like the day he was born.

What a rip.

Getting chased down by some new HYDRA-in-personal-cruisers army is like icing on a cake made out of 100% organic Fuck It. Tucker's not the smartest dude around, but he's not enough of an idiot to stand and fight for this one.

Get away, find Chorus, regroup, come back later. Or never. Whatever.

Plan A is, of course, the opposite of what happens. At least he's got the benefit of not being alone. Sucks to be us. Go team. ]

What the hell is this?! When did I fall into the rainbow connection?

[ B1.

This is literally the most boring trip in the history of the band. Ever. Forget that Tucker probably said that last time, the time before, and will probably say it again next time he has to pack up and buckle down for a long haul. Being in the moment is what matters.

All he's saying is the moment sucks. Tucker is flopped over a seat without much regard for the awkward positioning or the inconvenience it might give whoever wants to look out the window. He could probably afford to practice, but... meh.

The ladies don't fall for a schedule. Please. ]

Dude, how come all our road trips suck so bad? [ Default state: bitching about something. Failing that, he's all about trolling some social media. ]

i spy w/ my little eye the same scenery i saw 10 mins ago because this is the slowest trip in history. READY FOR THE NEXT SHOW

[ ETC. And pretty much open for any prompt otherwise. LET'S DO SOMETHING STUPID AND ROCK N ROLL. ]

[Rick is not exactly thrilled about this either. Hanging with some space marine is a-okay, but the reference just makes him frown. This is not something any reasonable person would nitpick, yet, he does anyway.]

Really? W-w-e're about to get our shit fucked by a...by a bunch of generic mooks and the only thing you can think to reference is the goddamn Mupp- [urp!] -ets?

[ ... he deserves this. He's sure he does, for some stupid thing he did a billion years ago.

Plus, it's a fair nitpick by his own standards. That makes him even more frustrated. ]

It- look, I was on the spot, okay?! Anyway, I don't hear you coming up with anything! Unless you wanna count breath that would turn some kid's birthday cake into a flamethrower!

The lovers, the dreamers, and homos, ain't it?

[ Nicky nudges the guy in the neat armor. She's awfully nonchalant about the whole whirling-color deal, but hey, it beats maximum security prison. Solitary's a bitch. ]

I'm telling ya, I've never been on a trip like this in all my fuckin' life. Probably a good thing, too, cause I swear, man, this shit feels real.

[ She chuckles. ] Didn't expect them to have such a great stash in the STU. Didn't expect to see guys in fuckin' turquoise jumpsuits either, but hell, it sure beats this khaki shit.

If it helps at all, I haven't seen anyone in khakis in like. I dunno, probably ten years. Pretty much anything that's not armor is a sight for sore eyes right now. [ On the one hand, horrific rainbow tunnel and freaky spaceman pursuers. On the other hand, a girl.

Weirdly enough, Tucker starts to feel better about this bullshit. ]

So, uh... what's your sign? Do you trip out and hallucinate really attractive renowned space marine heroes often?

[ It's never the time for this, so it's always the time. ]

Probably because we have to listen to someone complain through most of them.

[The deadpan response comes from the seat across from him, where "Weasel" has his own cell phone out. He's replaying a video of their last performance, rewinding the same scene over and over for no obvious reason. (It's because he's concerned about a wardrobe malfunction. His ponytail had been hanging over the wrong shoulder for one of their licks. Bad vibes.)]

You should relax.

[ "Everyone is making fair points except for me," an autobiography. Tucker keeps poking at his phone without any genuine entertainment or commitment. So much of life is sitting around and talking about bullshit. It just rubs him the wrong way.

But as long as he keeps getting enough of a kick out of shows to hold him over (and as long as the money's still good), he'll live on to complain again and again. Crowdsurfing is addictive. ]

Like you can even talk about relaxing! [ There isn't a real bite to his tone. ] I'm still pretty sure you sleep standing up just so you don't have to unclench. Who travels around in a kickass band but never has any fun?

Just because my definition of fun differs from yours doesn't mean I don't have any.

[His definition of fun doesn't involve a whole lot of smiling either, but what can you do? Music is fun. Haikus are fun. His attempts at abstract art? Totally fun. Everything he does is from the soul. It's just hard to tell.]

For example, I very much enjoy the simple peace that silence brings. Sadly I'm usually denied it.

[Thanks, Tucker.]

Oooooooooh, someone could use a nap.

[ Look at it sail... right over his head. It will never be forgotten. ]

I've never met anyone else who likes it silent so much. Must be kinda hard to snag when you're busy listening to the same six seconds of a song over and over!

[Fortunately for Weasel, being in the same band with Tucker as long as he has been means he's used to this behavior. It takes a lot to really rub him the wrong way typically, and this is no exception.

Ignoring the comment, he instead moves ahead in the video a few minutes and turns his phone around so Tucker can get a good look.]

Did you mean to get your leg tangled in that cord about 45 minutes in?

[ He's never above admiring his own performances. Tucker's more than happy to raise his head up and contribute to this viewing effort. It can't be said that he looks pleased with that particular part of the concert-- somewhere, deep down, there's a part of him that dislikes the mistakes and imperfections about a quarter as much as Weasel. So maybe as much as an average person generally might.

There's even a part of him that holds the same deep-rooted concern as most artists about what mistakes are too far past the line for the managers.

Still. Better not to go all-out trying and then fuck up. If he doesn't make a big deal about it in the first place, it makes a nice buffer. ]

Nah, not really. I forgot it was there. [ Honesty works best. ] But hey, girls dig flaws! If I'm humanized, I'm attainable.

Attainable is definitely a word I could use to describe you...

[Tucker is a rock star anyway. It shouldn't be difficult for him to have any number of women over. Weasel doesn't usually bother. Somehow he just isn't interested.

The mention of women and fans reminds him of something, though.] Hold on. I wanted to ask you about something. [At the end of the seat is duffle bag, which he unzips and begins rifling through. He pulls out a black shirt with a large design on the front, holding it up where his band mate can see it. The image has the heads of three weasels in dramatic poses with a full moon in the background.]

Do you think I should wear this? A fan made it for me.

[ Two finger-pistols and a tongue-click for the agreement, Weasel. What a pro. What a-- what a shirt. ]

Whoa, holy shit! [ TIME TO SIT UP LIKE THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING HE'S EVER HAD TO ADDRESS. ]

That's like the worst thing I've ever seen. In my life. Ever. [ ...... he's got to commission one. ] If you don't wear it, I'm gonna disown you!

I don't know what I expected.

[It's on a black shirt, which means that basically everything he owns will go with it. He'll probably wear it unironically.]

And I know this isn't the worst thing you've ever seen. At least it's composed nicely. It could have been grey on yellow like that one time...

[That was a shirt he's glad he never had to wear.]

[ That's a good question, and not one he can actually answer right now. As much as he wish he knew what was going on, getting the hell away from it was his current priority. That is, until he sees Tucker.

Then it's getting him away from it. Not even weird trips can turn off the mother hen. ]

Tucker. [ He sees one of his people, he's definitely not going to let him out of his sight if he can help it. ] Are you alright?

[ Apart from... whatever the hell this is. Was he drugged? Wash doesn't think so—but the alternatives aren't any better. ]

Wash! [ Tucker could totally have buckled down, tried to pull a makeshift unit together, and worked to bust out of this on his own, because he's very badass when he tells himself mentally that he's very badass. But given the choice, he'd rather not try to be responsible in the middle of whatever's happening. It's already giving him a headache.

Which is to say, Tucker makes an immediate beeline for a familiar....... helmet. Being totally alone ranked better than being alone with Palomo, but it was still really far down on his ladder of preferences. ]

I thought you were just a freaky wormhole mirage or something! [ That's his least favorite part of walking around in here, he's pretty sure. Seeing a shadow or a silhouette that he knows, only it's not really there. He's had more than enough desert-esque scenery for one lifetime since he got stuck in that temple way back when. ] What the fuck is going on?

[ Of course he could have.

Wash is at the point where he genuinely believes that. But hey, if he doesn't have to, all the better. It's easier on his nerves if he's there. ]

Yeah, you too. [ That is, until Tucker spoke. Nobody could really copy Tucker well enough to fool Wash, even if it was in his own head. Was it? He's not sure. ] I don't know—I've never seen anything like this before.

[ In hindsight, he guesses it makes sense that neither of them would know what this is or why they're stuck here. Pretty hard to recon in a Lisa Frank sticker or whatever. ]

Uuugh, tell me about it. I gave birth to alien jesus and this is still way too weird! Why does this stuff always happen when we're on break from almost getting killed? [ It's all fun and games until someone pulls them into a civil war or shoots them. With as many times as it's happened since he first got stationed on Blood Gulch, the question is more or less rhetorical. Tucker's followup is less so. ]

I couldn't find any open channels, either. There's a jammer or some weird sci-fi bullshit or something messing with the radios. [ Forget rainbow connection. It's straight-up slasher flick in this mess. All they need now is to get a car and have it break down. He bets that if his sword could have been bothered to show up here, he could just cut through some psychedelic brainwaves like any dude with a machete in the jungle in the movies. Problem solved. ]

[ No, Tucker, that's still really, really weird. Like, possibly on the same level as this. ]

In theory... it's not that hard to do. [ He has to pause, shake his head a bit. The imagery isn't easy to look at. ] But there shouldn't be anything like this on Chorus. Not unless it came from the tower.

[ And even then. they don't really know what all it even does. It was impossible for the Purge to start, wasn't it? This isn't what he'd peg as a genocidal weapon, but... who the fuck knows. ]

If this came from the tower, it better have a good excuse for leaving my sword behind. [ It's one of the most badass, handy things he ever accidentally fell down a hole to find. He plants his hands on his hips, scuffs the ground (if that's what it can even be called) beneath him with the toe of his boots. It may be a while now since he was doing the ambassador thing, but something feels like it's not the right style to go with that tower. ]

No holograms, no weird languages, no other-dimensional chicks with three boobs... this place blows. I vote we just wing it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TEST DRIVE MEME: THE SELF TITLED ALBUM

lavernius tucker | red vs blue

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