statusreport: (Default)
statusreport ([personal profile] statusreport) wrote in [community profile] illyria_ooc2016-08-14 06:36 pm
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☆ ᴛᴇsᴛ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ 02 ☆



Welcome, cadets! Wanna dip your toes in the pool? Have a new character you wanna try out? Interested in the setting but not sure if your character's a good fit? Welcome to the second official Test Drive Meme for Illyria, for all your test drive needs! There are a few prompts for you to choose from below, or you can make up your own starter if none of the choices tickle your fancy. Threads from this meme can be counted as game canon if you like, if you apply and are accepted, so you don't have to meet someone again for the first time. Reserves are open at this time, and applications will be open September 8th thru 12th. Have fun!

☆ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛs ☆

A. Arrival:
You wake up disoriented, finding yourself on what appears to be a medical bed. As you try and sit up, a young woman with blond hair pulled up in a tight bun stops you, urging you to take it easy. You were found in the cargo bay unconscious with a few other people, and while she's not sure where you came from or how you got here, you're here for the long haul, now. As you look around, you see a few other people in beds like the one you're lying on--do you recognize anyone from home? Or are these people complete strangers? Do any of them know what's going on, or how you got here? The only way to find out is to ask them!

B. Mealtime: While the Illyria has been mostly repaired, there are still some systems that aren't quite back at 100%. Unfortunately, one of these systems runs the replicators in the mess hall. Every order, no matter what you have requested, will result in a nice squirmy plate of Bithool gagh. Hope you're hungry!

C. Going up? You're not sure about these turbolift things, but it beats climbing ladders and crawling through tubes to get to the other decks. Besides, the ship is all fixed now, right? Surely you won't get stuck in it again. As you step into the lift, maybe there's someone already in there--or maybe someone steps in after you, but either way, you're not alone as the lift begins to ascend. Things seem to be going well for a moment, and then there's a loud screeching sound and the lights go dark as the lift stops dead in its shaft. Well, shit. Looks like this lift still needs a bit of work. Do you and your company try and fix the lift? Do you call for help? Do you crawl up into the shaft and try and make your way to another deck through the Jefferies tubes, possibly while humming the theme from Mission: Impossible? Who knows what peril may lie in the corridors between decks--do you take the risk, or wait to be rescued? Time to see if you're Starfleet material or not!

D. Excusez-moi? Maybe you dropped your communicator, or maybe you found the switch that makes it speak nothing but Spanish like Buzz Lightyear, but for some reason or another, your Universal Translator just isn't cutting the mustard. Be it Spanish, French, Klingon, or Vulcan, you just have no idea what this person in front of you is saying. Well, just walking away would be awfully rude, but how do you communicate with someone you can't understand??
overqualify: (D3130010217)

mr. robot | star trek

[personal profile] overqualify 2016-08-17 07:20 am (UTC)(link)
MEALTIME
What's an android doing in the mess hall, one might ask? Well, aside from it being a prime area for interesting social interaction (which is usually why he can be found there, watching over the proceedings with an intensity which lays bare the fact that no one has quite had the heart to tell him it's creepy yet), it just so happens that one Lieutenant Commander Data had gotten it in his head that today would be a good day to take in some of his usual semi-organic nutrient suspension (in a silicon-based liquid medium, of course) to assist in lubricating his bio-functions, as it has been awhile.

Only this time, he finds himself with a plateful of what appears to be wiggling worms.

"Most unusual," he says contemplatively, to the gagh. Whether or not they understand his attempt at conversation is unclear. "Computer," he continues, "I did not order this." The computer unhelpfully doesn't respond, so he turns to whoever so happens to be nearby. "Sir, by any chance are you interested in Klingon cuisine?" Because waste not, right? And he'll need his hands free if he's going to open up the replicator to see what's wrong with it.
GOING UP?
When the lift stops, Data makes the flurry of standard protocol contacts, starting with the bridge and ending with engineering so someone can begin working on identifying what caused the malfunction and then fixing the problem, which a cursory glance at the inside of the control panel reveals is more likely than not something out of his own reach to assist with at the moment.

Once done, he finally turns to his companion in the lift, quirking a small, awkward smile that looks more like an attempt to recreate some observed expression than one he's making himself.

Beware, new friend. He figures now is as good a time as any to reopen and resume his endless quest to fine-tune his small-talk subroutines, now that he has a captive audience. For some reason, most people make thinly veiled efforts to escape immediately after he begins, in his experience... (A long, sweaty climb through those Jefferies tubes is about to start looking mighty appealing, honestly.)

"Hello." He pauses for effect. "A fine mess we find ourselves in today, is it not?"
Edited 2016-08-17 07:22 (UTC)
tript: (what is that?)

Mealtime

[personal profile] tript 2016-08-18 11:33 am (UTC)(link)
"Ugh." Trip made a face and put a hand out, to make his point. "No wonder Klingons are always so bad tempered if that's the sort of thing they eat."

This man didn't look Klingon, though, and Trip hadn't heard him complain to the computer about the meal. "Why did you order it?" Morbid curiosity, he wondered, although he wasn't morbidly curious enough to try it himself.
overqualify: (D3160011916)

[personal profile] overqualify 2016-08-19 09:06 am (UTC)(link)
"It was not my intention to order gagh, sir," Data replies, with the air of a man who is not actually disappointed at receiving it anyway, which just ain't right. "To my knowledge it is an acquired taste, though I have known several humans to develop it." Several is an optimistic way to put it.

Still, Data gives the man what he is almost certain is an encouraging smile (it's not), trying to offer up the plate again. One of the worm-like creatures manages to wiggle up over his thumb and he has to flick it sternly back into the center of the dish. Don't knock it until you try it, Trip! "The replicator appears to be malfunctioning."
tript: (thinking)

[personal profile] tript 2016-08-19 07:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Trip had no intention of acquiring it and took half a step back to get away from it.

At the news of the replicator malfunctioning, he brightened. "I'll take a look at it." Although a lot of the technology was unfamiliar on this ship, he'd been doing some reading. And, if nothing else, it would mean being able to avoid the gagh.

He took a hyperspanner out of his pocket and peered at the replicator, thinking about what he'd read and where to start.
overqualify: (D3200006002)

[personal profile] overqualify 2016-08-21 10:55 am (UTC)(link)
Data's eyebrows slip up his forehead in mild surprise. He'd judged, perhaps prematurely (based on the outdated uniform he's wearing) that Trip wouldn't be familiar with the technology. At the man's offer though, he steps obligingly out of the way, fingers curling around the edges of his plate of wayward food as he lets the gagh do what it will.

"You are an engineer?" He asks, solely for the sake of making conversation while he watches Trip work. After all, according to his databanks the red-colored piping from that era could mean tactical or security as easily as engineering.
tript: (working with Malcolm)

[personal profile] tript 2016-08-22 10:43 am (UTC)(link)
"I am." Trip grinned and turned back to Data. Perhaps introductions would be a good idea. "Commander Tucker. Trip. Chief Engineer on Enterprise." He held out a hand to shake. "The NX-01," he added belatedly, because that uniform looked more modern, from what he'd learned, and there seemed to have been quite a few ships called Enterprise.
overqualify: (D3200008528)

sorry this is so late!

[personal profile] overqualify 2016-08-28 11:35 am (UTC)(link)
Data's eyes dart back and forth briefly like he's reading something as he scans the comprehensive collection of starfleet records housed in his internal databanks for Commander Tucker of the Enterprise NX-01. He is briefly stuck wondering what the protocol for temporal discretion in this situation would be: Trip is displaced in time, but as a Commander surely has the access to see his own personnel file. Unless he's been barred from it. Then Data is forced to consider that perhaps he has been barred from his own, he hasn't yet bothered to try. After all, he is out of his own time as well, though by a considerably smaller margin than the chief engineer.

Either way he decides (for once) not to run his mouth in front of the important historical figure, merely pausing on the approximation of an inhale before tilting his head slightly and returning the introduction. "I am Lieutenant Commander Data, Second Officer on the Enterprise NCC-1701-D." He sticks out his hand to shake as is the human custom, except there's a gagh-worm dangling off his finger. He sheepishly deposits it back on the plate. "... It is pleasant to make your acquaintance, sir."
tript: (working with Malcolm)

[personal profile] tript 2016-08-29 07:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"Same here." Although Trip gave the worm a look before shaking Data's hand. He was glad he'd refused to hold the plate. Admittedly, he'd had his touched worse things before, but only when he'd had no choice.

He turned back to the replicator, wishing he had a tricorder and the plans, but he'd have to work with what he'd got.

Which, as it turned out, was not a lot. He got it open, but then couldn't see anything wrong. Which didn't mean it was all right, just that he wasn't 100% certain what everything did.

Not wanting to look like he was as useless as he sometimes felt on this ship, he closed it up again and faced Data. He confidently announced, "It's a computer problem. I specialise in mechanical problems, but I will inform the engineering team and they'll send someone along to fix it."
consultingbishop: (064)

Going Uuuuup!

[personal profile] consultingbishop 2016-09-09 11:06 am (UTC)(link)
The shuddering of the Turbolift and the flickering of the interior lights causes Peter to roll his eyes.

Even in the distant future, they couldn't make these things work properly. Still, he watches his companion in the gold make a few calls on his communicator. He seems perfectly versed in getting the relevant people engaged to come rescue them, so Peter is content to leave him to it.

And, then the guy addresses him.

"Yeah, but I've been in worse than a broken-down elevator." He offers Data a friendly smile, before holding out his hand. "Guess I should introduce myself. Peter Bishop."