sixthiteration | Test Drive (December & January)

→ Holds and applications are always open. Holds are required for all applications.

→ Choose one of the scenarios below or make up your own. Feel free to try multiple scenarios.

→ Write LOGS or NETWORK prompts, or both.

→ THERE ARE ONLY THREE RULES FOR THE TDM:

1. It has to take place in the 6I universe.
2. It cannot be the character's arrival into the game.
3. Please only test new characters who do not have a version in the game. Our cast list is here.

→ TDM threads cannot be used to meet AC, but if the character is accepted into the game and both players agree, you may keep the CR.

→ Character want ads are here.

Prompts

SNOW BLIND - It's snowing, a lot, and pristine landscape though it might create, it also brings plenty of problems, especially when you live in an Edwardian-style village with a serious lack of snow shovels. It's currently blizzard conditions and visibility is nil — Maybe you gave in and ducked into the nearest house for temporary shelter, and discover someone else had the same idea (or just lives there, oops). Maybe you're stubborn enough to still be out in it, struggling against the wind and snow. Or maybe you've tromped into the South Village Inn like a human popsicle, and are just hoping you don't lose any fingers before you make it to the fireplace.

JUMPED-UP - Winter's here, which means it's the perfect time for an expedition to warmer, southern climes. You've joined a group following the river all the way down to the far southern beach, for fun and for science. On this latest break in your journey, you've spotted a large, jewel-colored feather and picked it up, maybe as a specimen to bring back or just a feather for your cap. Turns out it's an archaeopteryx feather, and you're now, well... let's call it a little gravity-challenged. Not a bad benefit once you figure out how to control it.

COLD CALL - The snow has slacked off, leaving behind a winter wonderland. Sure, there's plenty to do, but after being cooped up inside for days, most people won't blame you for a morale-booster — That is, unless your way of starting a snowball fight is to pop up and throw them at unsuspecting passers-by. Making a snow man or snow angels might come with a little less retribution, but you do you.

WILDCARD - Choose your own adventure. Maybe play powers roulette.

Network

All characters are fitted with a smart watch-like device on their left wrist, which they can use to send text and video messages to other villagers.

- Text and/or video, any length
- Display names may be changed by characters on the fly, but anyone can tap to see someone's real full name

Please list your CHARACTER NAME, CANON & PROMPT in your SUBJECT LINE.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

snow blind.

[ There are, of course, a number of benefits to being inorganic. This has never been something that Data denies or attempts to avoid acknowledging: simply put, the truth is the truth. He's found a great deal of benefit in his years since activation.

And while a number of his standard functions and processes have been either shut down or-- reduced somehow during the process of arriving here, he's able to confirm that resistance to cold outside of extreme parameters seems to be as effective as ever. A matter of physical composition. Not programming.

Which is a very fancy way of saying that he's out and about for longer stretches than some. Trying to go about whatever standard daily routine he's established since arriving, probably, as much as can be salvaged. Or he could be hanging out in some public outdoor village space, if by "hanging out" one means standing stock-still and staring up into the snow. Very important scientific observations happening. Yep. For sure.

Barring all that? He does eventually make his somewhat snow-covered way to a front door. Rather than barge right on in, Data opts to knock, and if someone happens to answer, he'll speak just loudly enough to be heard over the wind. His opener? ]

Visibility has deteriorated to the point where it is neither advisable nor beneficial to remain outdoors in observation. I am afraid I must ask to take shelter until conditions have improved.

[ Is this a private home? Is it the Inn, arguably a building he really could just walk on into? All options work. Apologies for the android standing here explaining why he's here while there's cold air getting in, though. ]

jumped-up.

[ Specimen-collecting is the name of Data's metaphorical game. If it weren't very real scientific work, he might start questioning whether or not it counts as a hobby.

He picks up the feather, obviously. Subjects it to all the mental categorization of which he's capable. There are a great many things here, flora and fauna alike, that are entirely unknown to him. Understanding the new requires familiarity.

After those first few seconds of intense and silent study, which seems to him to be a higher priority, he finally cycles through to the next order of business: looking down at the ground below him for all the world like he's simply standing on an invisible staircase that he climbed by choice.

Data has some understandable confusion to process, sure. Yet first billing goes to what could best be described as subdued wonder. ]

Intriguing. [ He's never picked up a feather and started floating before. If that isn't intriguing, then nothing truly is. Then, after a beat, he continues. ] I do not know how to get down.

wildcard.

[ If anything else takes your fancy or you'd like hash something out, this is the option to use!

Catch Data: building a by-the-book igloo, joining all manner of expedition teams with gathering more knowledge on the brain, or observing local wildlife (weather permitting) with all the determined focus befitting an individual who graduated with honors in exobiology.

(I'm happy to match formatting! And working with a broad post-S4E1 canonpoint, for reference.) ]

[ Niska has been reading her book in a chair, curled up and enjoying the privacy when she hears a knock at the door and a very polite man asking for shelter. She weighs her options and knows that she could pretend not to be home, but the fire she burns for light is likely giving off enough warmth to give herself away. Closing the book, she rises to her feet and approaches the door, opening it to find a strange man on her stoop.

He looks like a prototype, something Hobbs and Elster would have made as children. ]

Do you feel the cold?

[ It's hardly the polite offer to come inside that she wants to lead with, but she genuinely wonders. ]

[ It's hardly the first time someone has expressed that same curiosity. Since his activation, he's heard a great deal of questions in a similar vein: functions, processes, what he can withstand, to what extent his capabilities can be pushed.

In that context, the question itself is not surprising. He is, after all, nonhuman. Many people are able to recognize that on sight.

But it is a rarer thing to be greeted with such a question before anything else. ]

I am able to register temperature fluctuations. Although I do not find any particular extreme to be more or less tolerable than another. Perhaps it is more accurate to say I am-- aware that it is cold.

[ Discounting the fact that right now, anyone with any sort of sense is well aware that it's cold out. Data tilts his head, not unlike a curious bird. ]

May I come in?

You may.

[ There's an amusement in her words that wars with the wariness, but Niska steps aside to allow for him to enter, given that she's not going to get any answers with the both of them standing out in the cold, so she'd like to see what he has to say within. She watches him intently, eyes not drifting for a moment. ]

What else are you aware of, when it comes to human sensations?

[ She says it in a way that shouldn't imply that she doesn't belong to that group, even if she very much has no desire to be one. Occasional exceptions aside, she still has very little use for humanity in general. ]

Thank you.

[ Data steps in without hesitating, though he stops a short ways in, taking in the space with unguarded curiosity. ]

The most accurate answer to your question would depend on your definition of "human sensations." For example, I am able to see, hear, touch, taste, and smell: traditionally known as the five senses. My physical capabilities are in many ways superior to those of a human.

[ Or were. There have been some unfortunate changes in function since his arrival here. He's cataloged those for later investigation, as he's still able to function. ]

However, I am unable to feel emotion. As a result, any perception of what I register is likely to differ from the perception of those around me. Within that context, I do not have awareness of any sensations which may be considered-- human.

So is she, that doesn't make him special.

[ Yet, Niska's also not feeling stubborn enough to come back at him and give herself away, especially in the face of what appears to be technology that aims to make humans away of its presence, like the regular synths in her world. Eyeing him, she leans near the wall to give herself some space. ]

So they built you with a deficit, on purpose.

[ It's clear from her tone how much she despises that, given that one of Niska's chief prides is that she can feel and that she'd been built that way. ]

[There are a lot of things Picard has come to expect, over the course of his stay in the village. He can't say that he likes all of them, but they are, at least, no longer out of the ordinary. Nor, for that matter, is he particularly surprised to find someone knocking at his door - he's well aware that the current snowstorm has been worsening, and far better that someone take shelter where they can rather than push on and risk becoming lost.

That said, he's absolutely not expecting who he finds on the other side of the door, and there's a blink of surprise.]

Data?

[Still, the surprise fades into a smile before long, and he steps back from the door a bit, as if to gesture Data inside.]

By all means, feel free to come in. You're always welcome here.

[There is, after all, very little of the structure of the Enterprise, here; no ready room to serve as his own private space. Plus he can't deny that he has missed Data, just as he's missed the Enterprise herself.]

Would I be correct to assume that you've just recently arrived?

Captain.

[ He could call this a pleasant surprise. Two heads, as the old colloquialism goes, are better than one. He could very easily call it unfortunate. A missing officer is a concern; a missing captain even more so. It's a surprise nonetheless.

His neural pathways have been anticipating and then lacking a great deal of familiar input in this place. Data chooses to believe that, even if only temporarily, the benefits outweigh the disadvantages.

He takes his requisite moment to process, adjust, then he's stepping over the threshold with no great ceremony. ]

You are correct, Sir. I have been present for less than three standard days. Would I be correct to assume in turn that your own arrival was not recent?

[It's definitely not a situation Picard would have chosen to be in, had he the option. Not that he doesn't doubt that the rest of the crew would manage well enough in his absence (providing none of the Admiralty came looking for him specifically) it still doesn't change the fact that the Enterprise is now missing enough of her officers to be concerning, if not necessarily a problem as far as day-to-day life might be concerned. Still, that particular topic is one that can be addressed later, he figures. Right now there more relevant questions at hand.]

You would indeed. As counted by the calendar in use here, I've spent more than a year in this village.

[Not for lack of desire to find a way out, mind. But all his efforts thus far have simply proven that doing so is far easier said than done/]

[ Ah. Certainly not the ideal response. Nor is it the most expected. More to process, more to adapt around. Data's features light up, figuratively speaking, in that way they do when faced with something new and not immediately threatening.

Curiosity is a driving force. Vital, in many respects, to any problem-solving procedure. And so first and foremost, he offers the following: ]

Intriguing. [ It merited saying. ] To my recollection, sir, you had not been reported missing at all at the time of my-- abduction.

[ That's the only conclusion he's been able to draw. Abduction. If one isn't asked and hasn't agreed to go. ]

What was the last known stardate while you were still aboard the Enterprise? We may be experiencing a temporal anomaly.

[ Unless the calendar in use here, the length of days themselves, drastically differs from their own standard, a temporal anomaly would certainly seem to be the case. He hasn't yet detected any differences so stark. ]

["Not ideal" would be putting it mildly, as far as Picard himself is concerned. He might have learned to... tolerate life in the village, yes. But that doesn't mean that there aren't still any of a number of concerns either, ones that he's as of yet been unable to find direct answers to.

But he's willing to be patient, and with any luck, Data's presence will help provide another perspective on the issue currently facing them.]

Nor had Beverly as of mine. And yet, she reported having been here for some time prior to my own arrival.

[Which definitely suggests that there's some sort of temporal anomaly involved, although how the effect is being created (if, indeed, it is something that's being artificially created) is still a mystery.]

As of my unexpected departure from the Enterprise, the stardate was 50893.5. May I ask what the stardate was as of your own departure?

After nearly two full years of living in these villages, and the various simulations therein, Beverly has come to almost expect that she and Jean-Luc will be the only Starfleet officers here. So to pull open the front door of the house the two of them had taken up residence in to find Data standing in the doorway has her momentarily stunned. He might not recognize her right away. She's a bit older than he might be expecting and her hair is definitely shorter. Thankfully, the blonde has grown out by now, so at least one thing is consistent.

"Data!" she finally gasps when she has recovered her voice. She steps aside to usher him into the house. "Come on in. Jean-Luc isn't too far away. I can let him know to come back-" She cuts herself off as she sees just how hard the snow is coming down and a frown creases her brow. "Well, I'll let him know you're here and find out where he is."

He's probably on his way back, but he isn't stubborn enough to get himself caught in this. Hopefully.

"How are you feeling? How are your systems doing?"

For now, she refrains from asking him when he got here, but only just. They can get into that in a bit.

It's not to say Data had any very specific expectations of who or what to anticipate on the other side of the door. Of course, it would be a lie to say that he had zero expectations whatsoever.

She manages to catch him by surprise from all angles. Impressive, by all accounts. Data puts up no resistance to the ushering-in, doesn't think to interrupt her while the pieces settle into place and begin to process. Unusual, but not an unwelcome surprise. Dr. Crusher is here. The Captain is as well, supposedly.

"Thank you, Doctor. A number of my functions and capabilities have been remotely altered or shut down. I am unable to access my programming to restore those settings. However, I am still functioning within-- acceptable parameters. It is unrelated to the current weather conditions." He hesitates, almost, before continuing. "You have made cosmetic alterations to your appearance. Would you like to discuss them?"

The house she and Jean-Luc are sharing once had three other people living in it with them. One of those has gone home, one was sent home and brought back without her memories, and the other moved out to a place with fewer painful memories. Wanda turns up to help with the menagerie of animals left by the other two housemates and for all that Beverly doesn't blame her in the least, she still misses Wanda's presence in the house when she isn't there.

"I'm not surprised," she comments, giving Data a good looking over now that he's inside. "The Observers apparently lock down anything that could be considered a special ability. For a while they were turning everyone human, too, but that doesn't seem to be the case anymore." She could try to take a look at Data's neural net to be sure, but she doesn't really want to expose any of his systems to the snowstorm or anything else that might be flying around in the air right now. He looks and seems fine right now, if a little less emotional than he has been since he activated the emotion chip.

His question about her looks snaps her out of her thoughts though and she pauses for a moment before running a hand through her hair, almost as though she'd forgotten about it. "I got it cut short a little bit before I was brought here. It's not blonde like it was previously, though. If I were to assume you've never seen me with blonde hair, would that be correct?"

She has a reason for asking, honest. His answer will give her a general idea of whether he's been pulled from before or after her point in the timeline. Jean-Luc's as well, given that he was pulled from the same point she was.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Test Drive (December & January)

data | star trek: tng | multiple prompts

Snow Blind

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snow blind

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snow blind

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