voidtreckerooc | Test Drive Meme 002

Welcome to our Test Drive Meme! Here is the place to see how your character might fit the setting, grab some samples and start having fun!

1. Post with your character. I’ve written out some prompts but feel free to make up your own, you have a whole train to play with!

2. Assume they have been around long enough for threads to jump right into the action!

3. Have much fun!

Happy testing!

Luggage Handling

The last carriage of the train is full of luggage. It’s all empty but there sure is a lot of it. Suitcases, old fashioned travelling trunks, rucksacks. And they are scattered everywhere, a safety concern to be sure.

Or perhaps the most fun place on the train, if you are thinking about it right. These cases could be anything, a fort, a bunker. How many can you stack up until they are too high to reach or they tumble down on top of you?

Let out your inner child and relieve some of the boredom of being stuck on a train by creating the luggage castle of your dreams, or step in before disaster strikes and attempt to bring some organisation to this chaos.

Scavenger Hunt

You’ve found yourself on a world that seems to be one huge scrap yard. At least all the parts you can see are and you aren’t the only ones there. A small fighter craft has crash landed here and the pilot needs help fixing their craft to get out of here!

Team One The parts needed must be around here somewhere! This place has all sorts and so it’s just a matter of trying to sort through all the junk to find what you are looking for.

Team Two Some parts from the actual ship are salvageable but it’s going to take a team to get this thing sky worthy again. Fix what can be fixed and get the craft ready for the spare parts that will hopefully be found.

Team Three This planet is not without its nuisances. Most prominent are some strange cyborg rats that have a taste for wiring. Fend them off before they get into the craft and render all the hard work undone.

A picnic with a view

Heroes deserve rewards every now and again and after a few days of protecting a settlement from strange shape shifting alien blobs there is a moment to relax before boarding the train once more.

What a place to relax in. High up on a cliff overlooking a vast plain of crystal stalagmites. The light of two suns reflects of them creating a dazzling prism mirror effect of colour, it’s almost like hovering above a sea of rainbows.

A picnic has been provided by some grateful villagers, the food is strange but delicious and a perfect way to unwind after a stressful few days.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

His answer will be that he is mostly real - in that, the Nelyo Fëanor knows, is now in pieces. His hand remains on the Thangorodrim, for example, as do other smaller parts of him, scattered about Morgoth's accursed realm. But the largest missing piece is, of course, his innocence, yes, his sanity too.

"I am he." or as good as Fëanor will get, unfortunately. Maedhros looks at his father with clear concern before he glances away, ashamed.

That he is. His eldest. Always more like akin to his mother in his temperance and wisdom and yet still, unmistakenly, his son.

"Don't look away. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

You did what must have been done.

Pity they never even had a chance. Not with Morgoth. No matter how just their cause or how valiant their attempts. Feanor learned it in the hour of his death. What seems to be ages ago. It has been a source of his sorrow ever since. Trapped in the dull twilight of the Halls, watching new tapestries appear, portraying new evils.

"Or is it my presence that bothers you?"

"You are mistaken in that." Maedhros feels the weight of everything he does - everything he could have done - on his shoulders, dragging him down to the ground. No, lower than the ground. He has buried himself with his regrets and unbearable sorrow.

Fëanor's assumption catches him off-guard and he looks at his father, puzzled.

"Your presence has never bothered me." if anything, Fëanor has been dearly missed by his eldest. He doesn't have the strength to point fingers and talk endlessly about blame. It just doesn't matter. This Elf is his father - one of the first presences he ever knew - and Maedhros loves him.

He could argue with that. In the past, he most certainly would. Now? There’s no point in doing so. He could have all the right in the world and that still didn’t change a thing. Doesn’t make being deprived of the ones you love less painful.

“I’m sorry to assume that of you.”

So it seems that all that time spent hearing only accusations haven’t left him as unaffected as he would like to believe.
A faint smile crosses his lips as he reaches for the plate.

“Let’s eat then.”

This was then. Past. It will come to haunt them, Feanor is certain of it. But not now. Not yet. He’ll deal with it when it happens.

If he could protect his father from those accusations, he would. But they both deserve them and perhaps it is better that Maedhros can't stop them nor block them out. The judgement of the Valar doesn't hurt nearly as much as the judgement of those who were slaughtered all for the sake of some jewels.

"I lost my anger long ago." because there was no use in carrying it when everything else had been stripped away, "I am one of the last that recalls how we used to be." and those are memories worth cherishing and keeping.

He makes a plate for himself, eating the food without enjoyment or relish. It is merely a means to survive.

"And I'm happy that you do."

Those are the memories that are the most painful. The happy ones. Those that remind him what he lost.

To regain even a part of it now? Eyes that see. Hands that can touch. A body that can feel the breeze of the wind and warmth of the sun. Most welcome, most precious of all, presence of his son.

It is a strange occurence and Feanor is wary to be content with it. He doesn't know what price is going to be asked of him for this moment. For one most certainly will but it matters not.

"How do you feel, Atar?" he gazes at him between bites, resting his right arm on his thigh. Sorrow isn't unusual for him and he sees that emotion - among others - on his father's face. Though he doubts he has the power to alleviate any of the negative variety, he wants to try. He has to try.

That's a question he doesn't have a straight answer to. Does he even have one at all? Surprisingly, yes.

"I take it as it is, as long as it lasts."

Power? That would need to be one to turn back time and remake the past. There's none that can do this. Would it help if there was? Doubtful. There's a different path to tread right now. More difficult but also more promising. To leave the ashes, and the sorrow, and the pain, were they belong, in the past, and stick to the present.

"And I'm glad you are here. That's not something I expected to happen."

Ever.

"What else can we do?" Maedhros hesitates, looking over his father cautiously. Fëanor is an imposing figure - he will always hold his eldest son's awe - yet there is an urge to touch - to show affection - in him too.

It is somewhat disappointing that he is no longer an Elfling that can demand such things with pride.

"I only had a glimpse of the Halls. I would have found you." no matter how long it took or how long his fëa had to wander.

Feanor puts down his plate. He smiles.

"I think I could list several ideas" he says reaching to take his son's hand, painfully aware that the other is missing.

There is no doubt that Maedhros is a grown-up, a warrior, leader of their people in his own right but even after so many years he still remains first and foremost his child.

"I know you would."

"I'm listening." he blinks when their hands touch and he feels his face flush with shame. As he turns his hand over, Fëanor will surely see the scarring left by the Silmaril.

You are not worthy. He will see that soon enough.

His stomach churns and he touches his father's fingers carefully - afraid to assume too much.

"I thought I would perish as you did."

Ire rises, the old fire flaring in its cinders, coiling like an angry serpent in his chest as Feanor looks at the wound. Two of his sons bear matching scars. He might not have been there to witness but he knows how they got them. He knew as soon as the Eagles came back with the news. News that the great army of Valinor was victorious, the fortress of the enemy destroyed and himself held captive. Pathetic. That's what he thought then, it is what he thinks still.

It is in suspicion only but he is sure that it must have given Them quite a joy to boast about it. Boast about the easy victory, boast about the fact that once again They denied his heirs what was rightfully theirs. How convenient that they had him in this morbid prison, powerless, unable to even voice protest at this injustice.

If the long years have taught him anything it is that sometimes time is all he needs. Time. Because one day, be it a thousand years in the future or more he doesn't care, when all is forgotten, when They grow languid and lose their vigilance. One day the wait would be over and on that day when he'll finally get his revenge.
It is not this day yet. This day is for something else entirely.

Feanor pulls his son into a hug. "My sweet boy, I missed you so much." Any protests should any arise, that somehow Maedhros is too old for this would get promptly ignored.

Fëanor's plans would worry him greatly. Maedhros has reached his limit - and then some - and he longs for peace. Is he angry too? Does he want answers for why his kin in particular had to suffer so? Of course. But he has been stretched far too thin for a long, long time. What he needs most is a time of healing and quiet.

However, if his father asks it of him, he will follow him into battle. There would be no question and no complaint. Fëanor's Song was one of the first Nelyafinwë knew and he cannot help answering its call.

Just as he cannot help sinking into his father's embrace. His remaining hand clings to the cloth covering Fëanor's back and he gives a great, shuddering sigh.

"I missed you, too. We need you. I need you."

Test Drive Meme 002

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I’m sorry I dropped the ball on this. If you still wish to continue I’m game.

HI THIS IS LATE TOO. BEING SICK SUCKS. ;n;

IT DOES. I hope you feel better now

Thank you, it's a process. ;u;

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