![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
⬣//GROWING WILDLY OUT OF CONTROL.
September 23rd—conference day. In the hours preceding the meeting, beta testers are supplied with information on how to access the virtual conference room and offered a set of conduct guidelines. Testers are urged to read them thoroughly and instructed to sign their name on the bottom of the page to confirm that they’ve read and understand the following guidelines:
1. All questions will be addressed. Do not interrupt speakers or other beta testers when they are asking questions or having their questions answered.Players are generously allowed one hour to filter in and find their seats, review the guidelines, and discuss the questions they’ve prepared with their fellow beta testers.
2. Conduct yourself professionally and appropriately. Do not curse, shout, or otherwise engage in disruptive behavior. Violators will be muted and their speaking privileges revoked.
3. No eating or drinking. Keep your virtual space clean and free of debris.
4. Remain seated. Excessive movement or inappropriate behavior will result in restriction of your avatar’s movements.
5. PvP is disabled in the conference room. Weapons cannot be drawn and your Fragment inventory is unavailable during the duration of the conference.
One hour comes and goes. The room remains occupied only by the beta participants, CyberConnect Corporation’s flashy logo spinning idly on the conference room’s 80 inch display. Restlessness begins to settle in, idle chatter turning to frustration as one hour becomes two. Still, no one from the Corporation shows.
The conference room remains devoid of purpose, some forty-odd people sitting alone in a sterile conference room, a locked room, should anyone grow so restless they try to leave. Any attempts made to break doors and windows will fail.
The door is locked, as are the windows, the world beyond their stark white blinds a slurry of purple and black. Thunder crackles in that dark, endless void. Even if you could leave, where would you go?
It’s painfully evident after three hours of silence that no one from CyberConnect is showing up to the conference, but you knew that already, didn’t you? This mandatory meeting was fishy from the start, some would argue, while others may yet hold out hope.
That ends the instant anyone tries to log out and leave. Everyone who attempts to leave will be met with the same error Shoka was some weeks ago, but this time, the error is permanent. This time, there is no connection between mind and body anymore, and any attempt to “reach” your real self will fail.
You feel no one on the other end. You no longer feel the weight of your headset on your head or the keyboard beneath your fingertips. All your worldly aches and pains have drifted away only to find you here in your new reality, every sensation so real that Fragment no longer feels like just a game. Fragment is reality.
Three hours pass from the start of the conference. The boring white walls and rickety office chairs shudder and shake and give way to the Mac Anu everyone knows. You’re back where you started, more or less. What you do from here is up to you.
Some menus remain online. Players retain the ability to send and receive friend and party requests, access their inventories, spells, and weapons, and so on, but a few notable items are missing.
Players can no longer toggle their pain sensors on and off. Every blow you take is one you’re forced to suffer through, and what’s more, your health no longer automatically regenerates when idle. You’d better keep a stash of potions or a pocket healer handy.
While you’re at it, try not to die. The sharp-eyed among the group may notice that the respawn information nestled in the menus is no longer accessible to them. The respawn counter now reads as a series of zeros instead of the typical 20 minutes. Now is probably not the best time to continue testing Fragment’s death mechanics, but nothing’s stopping you from trying. No one’s going to save you, either.
Good luck, players. The real test has begun.
beel - tuesday
It's been, what—a day, maybe? Or two? He doesn't know. Time feels like it's been dragging on forever, and he isn't sure if he trusts his sense of time anymore. Who cares what time it is in the real world, though, when they can't go back to it?
Once he has a moment to slip away, he's found himself back at the campgrounds. It's daytime here, now, further messing with his sense of time, and not really the ideal moment for setting up camp and watching the stars. That doesn't stop him, however, from deciding to use the picnic bench as a bed, sprawling over the table like people don't usually use this spot to eat.
There are only so many clouds he can look at before he starts to drift off. He's just closing his eyes for a second, he tells himself. Just regathering his energy so he can go back out there and see who else needs caring for. He needs the energy, because...
Next thing he knows, he's jolting awake at the sound of someone gating in, and he scrambles to sit upright and see who it is. Augh, it's so bright; he shields his eyes... Is that tall figure— ]
Misteaks?
no subject
He blinks at the grumble of his name from the picnic tables, trying to see who's sitting up-- oh. Okay, well, he supposes that isn't much of a surprise.]
Mn. Hi, Hector. [A hand is raised.] Barrett's fine, you know. Not like we have much to hide right now.
...Did I interrupt something?
no subject
[ Right.
Hector shakes his head, still a little nap-dazed, and he runs a hand through his hair. ]
No, no, nothing. [ He blinks lazily at his new visitor, trying to clear the fog from his mind. Man, he must be more tired than he thought. ] I think I dozed off. That's all.
[ He hops down from the table and stretches, stifling a yawn as he tries to talk. ] What's up?
no subject
[Read: He's antsy.
He pauses, watching Hector stretch out like a cat and glancing back at his surface of choice. Sure, the outdoors must not always be that comfortable, but--]
Why were you asleep on a table?
no subject
I dunno. Why are we stuck in a video game?
[ A weird way to answer that question, but he figures the answer will be the same for both. They're both kind of absurdly pointless.
But he's also still sleepy.
He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the nap fog over his mind. After a few steps towards Misteaks and another yawn, he grins. ]
A jog sounds nice. Mind if I join you?