interstellar404 | ☆RESCUER TEST DRIVE: DIGITAL LOVE

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☆RESCUER TEST DRIVE: DIGITAL LOVE

☆WELCOME RESCUERS

"" (Watch on YouTube)

Welcome to Interstellar's first ever RESCUER TDM! A part of the Interstellar plot that has just opened up, this covers the entrance of those recruited by the lone space pilot Shep to join him on a mission to the planet Terra to rescue those held captive by Pride Records and Virgo Entertainment. Rescuers will not suffer any memory loss and will enter the game as they are, in contrast to the memory loss/force humanization of the musician half. Powers will be nerfed to a certain degree upon entering the game fully, but during recruitment they will remain at full power.

☆A DREAM ABOUT YOU
These prompts are designed to be game canon, for both rescuers and musicians both new and already in game. For those in game, they will start occurring around New Years in the form of dreams. The dreams will be very clear while happening, but after waking, they will swiftly fade away into something barely remembered. For rescuers, these dreams will occur very shortly before they are approached by Shep or other already recruited rebels to join the rescue squad and go save the people being held captive in Vista City. Rescuers will remember these dreams as clearly as something that actually happened in real life.

Both of these prompts take place in the dreamscape, ostensibly, and the surrounding will appear as whatever fits those taking part in a scene. It can shift and change as a thread goes along, as well, and may resemble things from a captive's home, the game setting, or anything else appropriate.

►A1) FOR THE CAPTURED: The kidnapped musicians of Vista City will dream of being themselves - in a way more true than they have been for months now. They'll dream of themselves as they're meant to be, in physical form and manner of dress, and their personality will align more easily with their true nature, even as the confusing influences of their programming nag at their mind. It could alarm them, or it could feel somehow natural. Either way, their memories will still be gone, except for what they've recovered - but they feel somehow much closer to reach, like they may break through if only given the chance to dig just about deeper. They may dream of home, they may dream of Vista, but either way...when the morning comes, their memories of this experience will be all but wiped away. Including the memories of the strangers that promised that they would find them and take them home.

►A2) FOR THE RESCUERS: The dream is the first sign of something being wrong. You'll find yourself somewhere else - either a scene from your home, or someone else's, or an alien world you've never seen. In this dream, you'll find a person. Perhaps it's someone you recognize, someone you love dearly, but that doesn't remember you. Maybe it's a stranger, lost, confused, and desperate for help. Either way, you find yourself reaching out to them - but outside of this dream, you are helpless to save them. The dream will fade but stay with you in your memory, and may be a key component in you choosing to believe and join the other rescuers when they come to your door. Something has been taken, and you will take it back.

☆MAKE THESE DREAMS COME TRUE
These prompts are design to be kept as game canon after acceptance, and can be used as the official story of how your character entered the game. Importantly, the technology used to enter 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 encountered multiple ways, or going in more than one direction, before the timeline settled on a final path.

►B1) JUST SAY YES: Soon after these dreams, rescuers will find themselves in a strange situation. Time will abruptly stop for every part of the world except for them, and fade into a ghostly vision of its former self - just in time for them to be approached by some mysterious strangers. Whether your rescuer chooses to run, fight, or talk, eventually they'll be told the truth - people of the multiverse have been captured and taken to a universe far away to be harvested for their souls...in the form of forcing them to becoming rock stars. You heard it here first, folks.

The people recruiting you will mostly be other player rescuers that have already been recruited (regardless of whether or not that's been threaded out - you can assume your guy got recruited by someone if you want to recruit OTHER people.) The pilot and owner of the space ship doing this appears to be a blue man named Shep. He's the guy that's apparently in charge of this whole thing, but he's so busy with the dimension hopping that he's kind of hard to find and talk to. He presumably recruited some of the first members personally, but things have been sort of getting more complicated since then.

►B2) INTERSTELLAR DISCO: After you've agreed to come for whatever reason - to save you lover, friend, some guy, whatever - you're be taken upon the guitar shaped spaceship to wait out the tide of the temporal distortions picking you up has caused. It's a long journey back to Vista City, and you've got plenty of new comrades to get to know. This mission could take a while, so you better get comfy. You're in for the long haul now.

NOTE: If you want to see the interior of the spaceship (or if you want to see Shep dance) watch the music video posted up top. It's going to be a fair bit bigger in Interstellar to accommodate the big crew, but the essence is there.

☆HELPFUL INFO
► Follow the mod plurk for updates: interstellar5555
► Check out the game NAVIGATION
► Check out the MUSICIAN TDM
► Reserves open on January 2nd at 12:01AM EDT
► Applications open on January 11th at 12:01AM EDT

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His first instinct is to demand that she doesn't call him that. She shouldn't know that his name is Steven, he didn't tell anyone but Greg that. If Greg told on him...

But then he realizes that this woman is both blue and also it seems like the ocean is angry now? He jumps back more pointedly at her demands, his fear rising from cautious and wary to something more panicked. Oh no. He doesn't know what she's talking about. Who's Jasper?!

"I - I don't know," he says, his voice shaking. "I'm sorry..."

It's not the kind of sorry that just comes from someone not being able to help. It's the kind of sorry that comes from someone genuinely feeling that they may be hurt in response to their failure to give a useful answer.

He's afraid.

The realization surges inward like a wave. For a moment it floods. Drowns out everything else.

Why is he afraid?

Steven, who confronted her at the crest of her ocean tiers. Steven, who tried to break her free from prison. Steven, who always dares to do the things that should be impossible, unthinkable.

He's afraid.

Of her?

The water slides backward towards the surf. Slips away into the sand.

"Steven . . . ?" Her voice is higher, even softer.

What's wrong? Something is wrong.

He's got an arm raised like he's anticipating being hit, but nothing comes. He lowers it, wrapping it back around his torso defensively. He hasn't felt very daring for a while.

He flinches when she says his name again. Does she...know him? He's been so worried, a moment ago, that he hasn't had the time to think any of this over. She knows him. But he doesn't know her.

He looks up, and around the beach, like he's wondering if he's being watched. He's still scare he's going to get in trouble, for all kinds of paranoid reasons. Is this a test? What if he does it wrong?

"Do you..." He doesn't want to cry, it would make him too vulnerable. As if he isn't already. "You know me?"

"Of course I know you." She doesn't even consider the words; they're there immediately. Solid. Not even realizing, she's eased back . . . No longer on hands and knees, she's just on knees, kneeling and small in the sand.

"You don't . . . know me?"

Her understanding of the world balances on his answer.

He's afraid to answer, and his reasons for why are split down the center. On one half, he's afraid that she may be angry that he doesn't. On the other half, he so desperately doesn't want to hurt her by admitting that he's not the Steven she wants.

But it's not like he can change the truth.

"I'm sorry," he says again, and it's as good as a 'no, I don't'. He looks around again, and part of him wants to run, but he doesn't. "I don't know where I am."

And that's where it breaks. His voice shudders and the tears become too much for him to hold back.

Her thoughts careen together, slamming into one another like a mass car wreck -- one after another after another until suddenly her head is loud, too loud, and she's drowning in the screams of tires and the shattering of glass.

Wrong.

This place is wrong.

It looks like his home, but it isn't. She shouldn't be here. He should be home. He should be safe. They aren't safe.

He's crying.

He's afraid.

She fights for clarity. Wrestles to keep the sight of his face in her focus. Although her mind is hers, it feels as though she is grappling with a stranger -- as though she is still drowning at the bottom of the ocean, battling for the memory of her own name. So much easier to give up. So much easier to give in.

But she owes him. Owes him a way through her own fear.

She forces herself up. Pushes, wobbling, to her feet. Stands. Her vision swims. Twists. She wills herself towards him, one foot in front of the next, until she is in front of him, just a couple of steps away. Again she sinks to her knees.

"I'm Lapis." The words are slow too; she wrestles out each syllable. "Lapis Lazuli. You don't . . . I won't. Ever hurt you."

Even softer, more wistful: "You set me free."

She's not angry. That alone makes him feel better about everything, knowing she isn't going to attack him or something, but...he still feels bad. He doesn't know what she's talking about.

He doesn't like standing over her like this, while she's kneeling. He sinks down onto his butt as well, watching her uncertainly.

"I don't...remember..." he says, and then shakes his head, closing his eyes tightly. A tear rolls down his cheek. "I...I didn't do that. I didn't...I didn't do anything good."

He's Steven. He couldn't not do good if he tried.

If she were anyone else, she might be able to say that. Might be able to reach out and brush the tear away from his skin, risk pulling him close.

But. She's Lapis . . . and even something so simple seems overwhelming. Instead she watches the tear as it creeps down his cheek, her fingers tightening in the folds of her skirt.

Deal with what is at hand. That, at least, she can do.

"What happened?" She keeps her voice soft. "What . . . do you remember?"

It's such a strange question. He remembers everything, or at least, he remembers everything from his actual life. It's so hard to shake the nagging feeling that everything he remembers from this strange world is just some kind of toxic pollution of his mind. That memories of these people and these places are something he was never meant to have.

But something compels him to try answering anyway. Maybe just because there's nothing else he can do.

"I remember growing up in Americana. I've never been here before. My dad was never around and I don't remember you or anyone else being around either."

He finds himself growing frustrated. He hates this. In an angry motion he lifts his shirt to show his gem.

"I'm not supposed to have this thing and...and I'm not supposed to be short and no one is supposed to know I'm named Steven either!"

Wrong. So wrong.

Her chest is tight. Her breath escapes small and shuddering.

He wouldn't lie to her. This isn't a joke. She barely gives that a first thought, and certainly not a second.

That means something has happened. Something has been done to him -- perhaps done to them both if she's here in this place with him. Something that can do that . . . it's a thing to be feared, bigger than them both.

The urge is there: Unleash her wings. Fly away. Escape and outrun.

. . . But that would mean leaving him.

And that she can't do at all.

"It's okay." Her words are a breath -- more to soothe than imply that anything actually is okay. It's okay that he doesn't remember those things. For now it has to be. She fights back the tightening squeeze of her ribs and chest, groping for a way to continue to soothe and yet get the information she needs.

"Pretend . . . pretend I'm the one who doesn't know. Who doesn't remember. Tell me who you are. Then . . . I can tell you."

"Is that okay?"

Despite her own reservations and fears, she isn't doing a terrible job of it. Soothing him, that is. Her putting it in that perspective for him makes a little easier for him to grapple with, and after a moment of staring at her with his shirt tensely jerked upward by his hand, he slowly lets it go, forcing himself to relax a little.

"I'm Tiger Universe. I picked that name for myself because...because I hate my dad and...and I didn't want to take any name that he picked for me. I've been doing music since I was little and now I play in a band called System Crash for Pride Records. We're...really popular."

He trails off, looking melancholy.

"...Except being in Pride sucks too, and...they hurt me if I try to leave, and I don't think I can anymore." His shoulders shake with small, hiccuping sobs. "They're gonna kill me."

They would . . . kill him?

Hurtmaimkilltorturetrapsnarekeep.

Her mind dissolves briefly into static, again too loud to hear the outer world. For a moment she's swept away in its current, borne downward by centuries, their weight pressing into her spine.

Trapped.

That word is almost too heavy to hold.

She surfaces again, but at cost, her thin frame betraying a shiver as the emotion ripples through it.

Twisting, she takes their surroundings in anew.

"Where . . . ?" The world around them is one that she recognizes -- the beach near his home.

She's not seeking to prove him wrong. But if he's being kept . . . how is he here? How are they both here?

She doesn't understand "records," nor recognize any of the names. But around them is only sand and rock . . . and the pounding of the surf.

"I...It's in Vista. Vista City."

He doesn't think to give more of a descriptor. After all, it still hasn't completely come to his attention that he's in a different world, a different universe from the one he's supposed to be. Maybe he had a life somewhere else in Americana he doesn't remember. A life on a whole other planet? It's hard to grasp.

"I don't know where this place is..." He looks up and around then, uncertain and afraid. "I just...ended up here...and you did too...and I feel really weird..."

Vista City. She stores that bit of information away, as well as all of the rest. She collects everything. All the scraps. There's a reason she's here, and while she doesn't yet know why, information is absolutely valuable -- perhaps vital for whatever comes next.

"Weird . . . how?"

She wants to tell him more about this place, will tell him about her, but first she needs all the information that she can gather.

If somehow he is trapped -- if, indeed, they're both trapped -- it may be able to set them free.

He hugs himself, his gaze fluttering around the area, taking everything in once again. It's like this weight on his mind that just keeps getting heavier. He shakes his head, like he's trying to get it off his back.

"I feel like there...there's all this stuff I should know but I don't. And I don't know if my dad is even real, or where I came from, or why...why everything is like this..."

He sniffles, trying to hold back more tears and failing.

"I wanted...all I wanted to do was be successful and...and to show everyone I could do it, but...I hate it. I hate this, and I...I hate myself. But sometimes it's like...like I remember being different, but...I don't...I don't know how to..."

He trails off, wrapping his arms around himself more tightly. On a deep level, he knows that something terrible has been done to him. But even so, it feels so impossible to do anything about it. Like the person he used to be is just...gone.

"Steven . . ."

Catching, amending: "Tiger."

She quiets a moment, trying to form the words. And when she does, they stumble, but they're certain, as concrete as she can make them.

"These . . . aren't the things I know about you. I don't know what's happened. Something's wrong. Really wrong. Just . . . we'll fix it. Somehow. I don't know how yet. But . . . I want you to trust me."

Her fingers graze her collarbone. "Once . . . more than that . . . you helped me. You saved me. If you'll let me . . . -- even if you don't -- I'll give that back to you."

Again, somehow. There's an enormity of weight in that promise, especially given all she currently faces. But it's also a promise she needs to make.

She has to find a way to make it work.

Edited (present tense fails) 2015-12-31 06:32 (UTC)

He saved her?

It makes his heart twist thinking about it - how he could have possibly done something like that for something like her. He wants to know so badly. Without thinking, he reaches out his fingers to her. Maybe it's just to see if she's real.

"I'm sorry I don't remember you," he says very softly. "I...I didn't mean to."

It's obviously he didn't. He just can't imagine how he let something like that slip away.

"I don't think it's your fault." The softness of her voice matches his. "I know it isn't."

Rarely is she touched -- and especially not gently. When his hand reaches for her, for a moment she only freezes, uncertain at his stretching fingers.

Only on instinct does she stretch a hand out in return, palm up. Her skin is soft and cool.

What now? What should she do? She looks to him for confirmation.

He looks back at her, his small hand matching her slender one. His look is pleading - he doesn't know what she can do, but he knows that in that moment, he feels like it's the only thing that could help him. Please, help me, he thinks.

"I'm really scared," he says, his voice wavering.

Her fingers tighten softly on his, her voice a small thread. "Me too."

She doesn't want to lie to him. Whatever is going on here, it's not okay -- not for either of them.

But that doesn't mean she doesn't want to reassure him, either. She pushes her voice firmer. "But . . . I'm promising."

Of all the things she's learning, that are coming to define her from the moment she left her mirror . . . some things outweigh fear. They have to.

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☆RESCUER TEST DRIVE: DIGITAL LOVE

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