TEST DIVE #2

[subnauticmods]

≡U.R.S.U.L.A. NAVIGATION

_ PREMISE & NAVIGATION ✦ RULES ✦ MOD CONTACT TAKEN ✦ RESERVES ✦ APPLICATIONS ✦ HIATUS & DROPS FAQ ✦ BASE ✦ BIOMES ✦ URSULA ✦ URSULA CONTACT

TEST DIVE MEME


For information about the animals and locations, be sure to check out the BIOME and BASE pages!

A: There’s a Storm on the Horizon
A brainstorm. On advice about the ingenuity of multi person parties, and from admitted lack of understanding of many needs of organics, URSULA has selected you and a partner (or partners) to go to one of the observatories with food, beds, and recording devices to have a jam session for ideas about missions.

You are not to leave the room until you have some good ones. So get cracking! Start suggesting to one another what the base needs to do.

Or get horribly, horribly sidetracked and possibly a little crazy at being locked up together with the ocean staring at you. Judging.

B: The Abysmal Sea
You’re stranded.

One of the planet’s troublesome signal-interfering pulses has just made your communication devices 100% nonfunctional. No matter how you try to call URSULA for help, she isn’t able to respond. The database strapped to your wrist is just a useless chunk of metal now, leaving you without a useful library of knowledge to survive off. If you were driving any underwater vehicle prior to this point, it’s broken down. And unless you’re a mechanic, it’ll be pretty hard to get it jumpstarted again.

Don’t fret! The communication systems always come online eventually, so if you stay put, it’ll boot back up and give you directions straight back to base so you can finally get home. But can you really afford to stay put? The sunlight’s slowly streaming out of the sky, leaving the waters darker and darker with each passing second. Soon, you won’t be able to see five feet in front of you, and the only warning you’ll get of any approaching threat is through sound, if they even make any.

You have a few choices: take a daring risk and try swimming back to base, but on the off-chance you don’t remember the directions correctly from before you were cut off, you’re going to get even more lost, in the darkness of the night no less. Or, you could huddle in, with any friends if they were unfortunate enough to be with you, and start focusing on getting warm. Because spending the night out here in the vast oceans with the entire world against you is becoming a very, very real possibility.

C: It’s dangerous to go alone. Take them!
URSULA’s technology is breathtaking. With enough materials, she could make practically anything: weapons, vehicles, all those human comforts and entertainments she forgot to build... or perhaps she could expand the base to give everyone even more leg room. But there’s a catch: you need to get those materials to her in the first place, and scavenging can be a monumental task.

The planet Iniidae has a plethora of materials to provide, but you’ve got to go find them first. Some are easy enough to get, by plucking off the ground or breaking a rock. But some are a bit more challenging, such as Crash Powder, seeing that the Crash defending it will literally explode in your face if you get too close. And then there’s materials such as Blood Oil, only harvestable within the Blood Kelp Caves several hundred meters underwater in the pitch-black darkness… remember, you have to gather resources with your two bare hands. No such thing as driving around and conveniently collecting them within the somewhat-relative safety of an armored vehicle.

Since it’s so dangerous to go alone, URSULA will encourage you all to leave the base in pairs or groups if you’re going to try collecting some of the more precarious materials to harvest. She has heard that most lifeforms find being reconstituted from nanites traumatic, so try not to die in front of each other!

D: Almost, but not quite, Entirely Unlike Tea
The droids, URSULA promises, will do their best to make anything you want. Go on! Ask them anything! She’s excited. This seems like a great way to test out their capacities.

Of course, you need to be very careful what you wish for. Maybe you ask for Hamlet by William Shakespeare, and they do their best but only know so much, giving you a book with some… creative changes. Maybe you ask for a puzzle box, but you weren’t specific enough and things went awry.

Maybe you made the mistake of asking for tea..

No matter what, you were given something that was almost, but not quite, entirely unlike what you asked for. Now what do you do with it?

E: CREATURE FEATURES (possible body horror)
As more data is collected on the creatures of the deep, DNA can also be gathered to allow URSULA to research how to integrate it into her crew members in useful and hopefully unintrusive ways, unless of course permission is given first for more obvious or exhausting additions.

Well, that's the idea, anyway.

Unfortunately, something malfunctioned while URSULA was researching. Her incomplete serum was injected into you through your devices while you slept (or maybe you were knocked unconscious by the sudden change to your body). Now maybe you have the temperament of a Stalker or the thirst of a Bleeder or Gasopod pods on your back that trigger when you're startled. How this genetic malfunction works and what it is can be up to you but while URSULA assures you it's only temporary, you're stuck like this for now.

Have fun?

F: The Caverns of Dream
The ocean calls you. Of course, it's much easier to dismiss it as nightmares. You'll probably think that's all it is after you have them. Flashes of screaming sea creatures writhing in agony, pleading for help, but these creatures can't ask for help, can they? Something huge, beyond the scope of imagination, moves in the ocean of your dreams and calls out to you to go deeper into the darkness. It pleads and begs but not with a voice you can hear or words you can understand.

You wake up in a sweat with the unrelenting desire to take a swim, even though it's late and everyone is asleep. Or maybe someone else just had the same nightmare as you? Are you willing to take a swim and try to understand the dream?

BASED ON CODE BY TESSISAMESS AND SUPERSUITS

Comments

[bonomial]

[It's the green person... Don can't help but notice anybody green. It gives him a weird sort of homesickness, which mixes with the anxiety that dream has conjured up.]

Sorry about startling you. It's kind of a ninja thing.

[A beat, as the newcomer's statement sinks in:] ... So it wasn't just some kind of Turtle-related mental manipulation, huh? I'm not sure if that makes this more or less understandable. [He's not sure if it should make it either.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

Turtle... related?

[He shrinks back a little further, like Don might have something contagious. He probably does, honestly. But if the turtle's confused about this dream thing too, then maybe it's not his fault.]

Just to be clear, we're both talking about the... sudden, inexplicable urge to go on a suicidal nighttime swim, right?

[bonomial]

That would be it. [Another uncertain glance ocean-ward, at its vast surface that just seems to beckon for him to swim beneath it to rescue... whom exactly?]

Something out there was... calling to me. Not in any words that I could understand, but it was definitely calling me.

Could it have anything to do with the telepathy that URSULA gave us? [That seems like a logical place to start.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

Right... that's what we're calling it.

[He scratches at the back of his neck as though that were the injection site. If there ever even was an injection.]

I wouldn't answer that call, if I were you. [Pay no attention to the mask in his hand. He wasn't planning to answer the call.] Nothing good can be on the other line. One dream might've been a fluke -- probably not -- but two dreams... that sounds like... [Gulp.] An infestation.

[bonomial]

If my brothers were here they'd probably say the same thing, but... what if there really is someone - or something - out there? I just can't shake the feeling that this is something bigger...

[His forehead wrinkles a little as he looks out over the water. There's nothing visible from the surface; no sign of struggling animals...]

If I had my Shell Sub, this would be a cinch to check out. [He never realized just how many gadgets and vehicles he had until they were all forcibly taken away from him.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

But a mindworm infestation is something bigger! They could already be controlling everyone in this base! Do you see anyone else out here?

[After that outburst, Stork makes a concentrated effort to rein in the panic just a bit. If he's right, that would only alert suspicion anyway. He sighs at Don's last comment, looking out over the water wistfully. He can relate, at least halfway.]

If I had the Condor, I'd be gone. [That could be interpreted two ways, but he says it bluntly enough to give a clue which one.]

[bonomial]

[Completely distracted from the weirdly-paranoid idea of mindworms by that last statement.] The Condor? A term for New World vultures doesn't sound fitting for a submarine. Some kind of flying vehicle?

[Hope you don't mind the sudden influx of obvious curiosity, Stork. Don's turned somewhat to face Stork better, excitement visible behind his purple mask.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

"New World" wha...? [It's more a rhetorical mutter of confusion than an actual question. We're talking about the Condor now; Stork has no time for your New Worlds and your carrion birds. Later.]

She's an air carrier, but with a little retrofitting she can go submersible. [His pride is obvious, even through all the suspicion. One other thing is less obvious, but still there: Stork seems just a bit gloomier, now, more like they're talking about a dead family member than a missing vehicle.]

Buuut why do that when you could be anywhere but here, right?

[bonomial]

[Though this person seems to be gloomy in general, Don can feel the swelling pride in that voice, and it reminds him of himself - well, himself if he was pretty depressed, anyway.]

Did you build her yourself? Most of the Shell Sub was recycled components; it's amazing the kind of stuff people just throw away sometimes. [Although Don's not above "borrowing" parts that are more difficult to make, or - more recently - actually legitimately buying them. April's a big help there, what with her ability to have delivery people see her face and all.

Even Don has to reply to that last bit, though:] As for that - I'm not sure how much of an "anywhere" there is. From what I've read of URSULA's database, this planet is pretty much all water. Unless the Condor's space-capable, you're kind of stuck for now.

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

Weeell, not originally -- the Condor is juuust about a hundred and eighteen years old as of... [He stops to work it out, then looks rather depressed by the answer, his ears drooping.] Last week.

[He picks himself up again, clearing his throat. Still bragging here.] Buuut when you factor in all the upgrades and the restoration... one complete rebuild... yeah, pretty much.

[bonomial]

So she's a ship with a pedigree, or at least one heck of a lifespan. [A hundred and eighteen years. Sheesh. That is literally a century longer than Don's even been alive.

He is totally not missing Stork's obvious attachment to the vehicle, though, so maybe a conversational detour is in order if he wants to stop reminding the man of his lost machine:]

How old does that make you? You look pretty young to be a centennial, but then again I'm used to humans. [That's a fascinating subject in and of itself: Don is not the best judge of age in humans, only having relatively young ones to go off of as an average.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

Umm... [That's not an uncertain or uncomfortable sort of "umm." That's the judging kind. Not that he can tell how old a turtle is at a glance, but it still strikes him as a pretty fantastically stupid question.] I'm twenty-one.

How old are you? [Small talk. He woke up in the middle of the night from some sort of evil psychic fever dream, and he's standing around making small talk with a turtle. This is going well.]

[bonomial]

Hey, give me a break, I don't even know your species and you just told me your ship was a hundred and eighteen! It's not an unreasonable assumption. [He knows aliens that are like... three or four times that old.]

As for me, I'm a hundred years younger than that. [Donatello is vaguely pleased with this fact, mostly because this is older than most people would reasonably expect to live in his circumstances.] Turned eighteen pretty recently, actually, along with my brothers.

[That topic seems to be a similar sore spot for Don, though less gloomy and more melancholy. The Turtle leans a little on the edge of the base's glass walls, contemplating the twin moon shimmers on the ocean's surface.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

Huh. [Younger than Stork thought, but not really that much younger than he is. Though, given the difference in species, it's hard to say what that really means.] Happy birthday.

[There's no enthusiasm there at all, but no overt sarcasm, either. It's obvious that the ninja guy is missing his brothers -- clutchmates, apparently -- but if he's looking to talk about it, he's not going to have much luck with Stork right now.]

Well... if you're not going to answer the call of doom tonight, then I've got some lying-awake-in-dread to get back to...

[bonomial]

[What a change in tone. Don's melancholy enough now to just go with it, though.]

I still intend to figure out what's out there. [He pulls his bo staff - a long piece of wood that's taller than he is - out of the belt it had been slung through across his shell. With a deft wrist, he trails the tip in the water, circumscribing a shape.] The last time I had prophetic dreams, they helped save a lot of people.

[He glances up at Stork.] It'd be safer going as two than going alone. Even if we are crazy, and there's nothing... there are useful materials down there. I know how to fight, and I'm a Turtle. The water's my thing.

[It's an offer, whatever that means to the green man in front of him.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

[Oh. Great. When he puts it like that...

Prophecies got Stork into this mess. But... they also saved a lot of people back home, too. That, and gave him the key to the Condor.

He had to pull the prophecy card.]

You're definitely crazy.

[The Merb steps forward, looking like he already regrets everything.]

And I don't even have a stick.

[bonomial]

I think I can fix that. Apparently, the droids here can make things for you if you ask. Shouldn't be too hard, right?

[After a few moments of unsuccessful flailing and telepathic commands, Don manages to flag down a droid and communicate the desire for a stick to it.

Then it's a matter of waiting, which Don does patiently, at least until the droid returns with -]

... That's a sticker. A gold star sticker.

[Don holds the sticker up, frowning deeply. If this is trying to tell them something, it's being extremely demoralizing.]

This is not at all what I meant.

... I might have better luck just salvaging you something to make a weapon with.

[Come on green guy. Don still doesn't even know your name maybe that should get solved soon]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

[Stork doesn't offer any assistance with the droid-hailing, preferring to stand back and watch this exercise in futility. He doesn't actually know what to expect -- "a stick" seems like a simple request. It's either too simple to mess up, or too simple not to.]

...Uhh-huh. [The Merb looks down at the sticker in Don's hand as though giving it his professional opinion as a Deadpan Snarker. Yup, that seems about right. It might be funny if it didn't so perfectly represent the state of his life right now.] You tried.

[He sighs, resigning himself to his fate and reluctantly following the turtle. It might just be safer out there than in this place.]

[bonomial]

[Don is just... not going to justify any of that failure with a response. Instead he puts his mind to more practical matters. The water is dark, and it's pretty hard to see. This would be an excellent time for a flashlight.]

Remind me to rig up some kind of waterproof lighting system as soon as we've got the tech. [That's half-to-himself.] For now, we may just have to rely on the luminescence that's so common here... hopefully we won't need to venture far.

[Don glances at his wrist database, wryly wondering why it doesn't have the power to provide a little more oomph. Even his fashionably purple one wouldn't glow strongly enough in the darkness.

He sighs and begins to slide on his diving mask. This is still kind of insane, but he can't let go of the image of roiling water and gnashing jaws.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

[Stork fumbles with his mask for a moment, shaking and cowering just behind Donatello. He's not questioning his decision -- he knows it's a terrible one. But the pull of whatever's out there is getting hard to ignore.

At least it's probably not a Sky Siren. He's not seeing anything he wants to see right now. (Then again, this isn't Atmos. What do they have here instead of Sky Sirens?)]

Great. No lights. [He clenches his teeth.] That's comforting.

[He finally slips his mask on and gives Don a shaky thumbs-up.]

I don't need to see my gruesome end, anyway...

[bonomial]

I'm not letting you come to any end, gruesome or otherwise, without a fight. [He says it immediately, but his body language is less certain. He hesitates at the edge of the water, slipping his bo staff back into its holster for the moment so it won't hit anything during the dive.]

With the masks and respirators on, switching to telepathy is definitely easier, but man is this weird... [He pushes the mask up over his eyes anyway, which just looks silly with his existing mask.

Better try it out. He refocuses those nodules that URSULA added to his mind.]

It's going to take awhile to get used to this. The technology must be incredible! [He wonders how much of his thoughts his swimming partner is going to hear - maybe all of them. That's disquieting.]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

[Stork flinches as though physically struck when the turtle guy's thoughts reach him. The fact that it doesn't feel at all unnatural is the most disturbing thing about it.]

Yeah... incredible. Am I the only one not on board with this?

[He's being careful, exceedingly careful, about what thoughts he sends. It feels pretty straightforward, send or don't send, but he's still afraid that if he doesn't work at it, he'll be an open book. Easy prey.]

What's the use? They're already in my head anyway.

[See, there he goes. Maybe he's overthinking this.]

[bonomial]

Mindworms again? I don't think anything biological went into this. More like techno-organic. [He says - or thinks - it pretty easily, so this clearly is an occurrence he's dealt with before.] Better than having your brain picked through like a hard drive, though.

[As Donatello 'speaks', he gracefully lines himself up with the water before springing forward into a front flip. He enters the water with nary a splash, the ocean closing over him immediately.

It's dark. The Turtle carefully treads water in place, trying to get his bearings. Though the night sky is star-studded, underwater all that light gets muddied into indistinct grayness, and he can really only make out the edges of the ship and rock outcroppings. They'll probably need to head out a little further to see any of the glowing coral, though small fish flit around occasionally.

Out here the feeling to swim tugs even more at Don, like it's settled into his bones. Whatever his mind wants him to see lies beyond this shallow inlet...]

[adaywithoutsandcakes]

Actually, I was talking about you people. [No mindworms this time. Having a bunch of strangers in his head whenever they want to be is just as bad.] But I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe none of this is real.

[Stork's not actually sure what a hard drive is, which changes the meaning of Don's example a little bit. It still sounds awful, though.

The Merb stays behind for a few moments, waiting until his partner is well clear and then some before diving in after him, in a much less showy fashion. Once he's under, he quickly closes the distance between them, afraid to be left behind even this close to base. He misjudges the distance in the dark, bumping into the turtle's shell -- he's not used to those.]

[bonomial]

I don't know about you, but I don't like the idea of digging around in someone's head without permission. After it happens to you, it seems like an even worse idea to try it on someone else.

... I don't even know your name. [He might as well volunteer his.] Mine is Donatello.

[- and then Stork bumps him and Don actually thought-yells, immediately whirling around to face Stork - which nearly puts them face to face for a moment. Personal space probably needed. Don paddles back almost right after, though maybe not enough to diffuse awkwardness entirely.]

This lack of light is really going to become a problem. That's the first thing I'm asking URSULA about whenever we finish this exploration.