Test Drive Meme 015

[voidtreckermods]

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

1. Post with your character, including their name and series in the subject. We’ve written out some prompts but feel free to make up your own, you have a whole train to play with!

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

3. Have lots of fun. Mandatory, mod-sanctioned fun.

Happy testing!

A Quiet Place

A double carriage with a staircase at each end, the quiet coach has five booths on each floor. With frosted glass doors, locks on the inside, and a pair of comfy benches each, they’re luxuriously private on a train that’s anything but. There are no ICP screens, and each booth is completely soundproof.



Granted, two of the rooms downstairs have been merged in an act of vandalism and are now a workshop-slash-forge, but that has its own attraction. Plenty of things to mess with, plenty of boxes of scraps. The main tinkerer’s not home. Hey, isn’t that a welding torch?



No? Well, you were early enough to snag a room for yourself. Perhaps you’re not alone, or you’re expecting company. Or maybe you forgot to lock the door, and now someone’s in here with you. Awkward.

Too Many Cooks

Once a single room, the kitchen now sprawls over two floors. Banks of industrial electric ovens, a long, steel countertop facing them. Cupboards full of oven trays and pans, racks of implements and appliances. On the first floor, sinks and modern appliances, and cupboards full of crockery.



This month, the month of Harrow, the recipes are centred around chocolate. Chicken Mole, chocolate ravioli, cocoa chilli… it may begin to taste a little sickly sweet after the first week. Fortunately, there’s plenty of room for experimentation as people start to beg for other meals. And a lot of chocolate going spare.



And when the preparation is finished, and the meals have been sent over to the dining carriage… there are stacks, and stacks, and stacks of plates. Pots. Cutlery. And no dishwashers.



Well, no, that’s not strictly true. You’re there.

Allegorical Devices and Other Foes

The world of Torcera, designation #450720816. With a civilisation level roughly equivalent to the medieval ages, the train has deposited its Voidtreckers in a castle town, in which several kingdoms have assembled for an annual tournament. Banners fly from every roof, chattering squires and servants tug mounts this way and that. Some resemble horses with trailing antlers and four lidded eyes, others great flightless birds, and a third popular choice is a species of lanky winged dogs, albeit for the sake of fairness their wings are strapped loosely to their saddles. As a world ignorant of Void travel, you have all been given access to the dressing car’s voluminous stores. Dresses, chainmail, jerkins, or even a few suits of full plate… and plenty of hooded capes. Evil is afoot at the tournament, and you are to root it out.

Team One

Courtiers and their adjutants have travelled from all corners of the planet to assemble for the tournament; the empress herself is said to be participating, and stakes are high. Your team has been tasked with determining the identity of the empress in the tourney, and the identity of her foes, so that Team Two can move in. To this end, you are to mingle with the court and, if necessary, break into personal quarters. Brief instruction in protocol will not be provided.

Team Two

Once you know the identity of the Empress, you can move to defend her - you’re relatively sure she’s either the helmed hedge knight of the crested monlion, or the masked outrider with the seagoose crest and a mount with plumage of deepest blue. But you can’t be sure, and until you are, you’re to sign up for the tourney and look for troublemakers. The melee will be held in the afternoon, and tomorrow the individual lists. Mounts are available, as are a staggering number of weapons. Ideally, the final round would be a number of Voidtreckers, and the Empress. How to arrange that?

Team Three

Team One is in the court. Team Two in the lists. And you, Team Three, are amongst the common folk. Rumours abound, the atmosphere is festive, and several events are open to ordinary citizens on the second day, including one bohort with a single wish of the Empress as the prize. No great problem, perhaps... if not for the tales of a younger brother, long lost, looking to usurp the throne. Unrest is stirring in the town behind the colourful stalls and laughing children, and it's up to you to determine where, and why.

Comments

Onworld....

[lafemmejulie]

"Ah, mon ami," she reples, lowering the fiddle she was just about to play, "so far I have found three places with wine that I would not give to my worst enemy even if he was dead; two with at least passible wine; one with something they called 'beer' but was more of a somewhat drinkable bread, and one with a rather nice mead." She gestures with the bow, even as she seems completely sober for what she's described, in the directions.

"There was one other place, but they informed me that I was simply rabble and was not allowed in, so I have been sending people I find unpleasant to them." She seems to be pleased by doing that.

[narcultist]

Cassidy smiles warmly, still hiding under his hood, "They all sound great, love, but you can't just tell me half of that story and expect me not to ask questions." 

Call him a fool, but it's precisely that sort of spite and retaliation that makes him really adore a personality. "For starters," he chuckles, "How do you feel about giving them a little more trouble?"

[lafemmejulie]

She shrugs.

"They told me that I looked like rabble." She doesn't - street entertainer, perhaps, but an upscale one. "I've been approached by beggers, pedlars, and two people I believe were playing at being lepers. I have them some coin and sent them over. I'm sure that they have a small band out front now being obstreperous."

Oh, now you have her attention. "Mon ami, I must ask your idea, for I suspect it is a sound and excellent one."

[narcultist]

"That's shite if I ever heard it." he replies, his head shaking as he looms closer. "Disrespectful, that's what that is."

Cassidy may not have been the most knowledgeable about history or wealth, even for someone who has been alive for as long as he has- in fact, he prefers squalor, but to him she looks very upscale, easily outshining others on the street.

"I've turned my share of tricks, miss. I know a way to clear the wallets of every lad in that place, then let the lepers drink their fill." Cassidy muses, thinking fondly of how he'd bet every person in a New Orleans bar that he could take a gunshot to the chest. They'd been sure they'd killed him, fled in fear of being caught, and then he drank for free. Surely there wouldn't be guns in a renaissance town like this, but any weapon they had, he could take.

[lafemmejulie]

"Oh, most disrespectful! That is why I send people I knew they'd hate there." Obviously, these two are on the same wavelength.

"If you did something like that, I would cheerfully provide for you whatever meal you would like, as you would already have drunk your fill."

What? Maybe he's a vegetarian. It's not like she knows.

[narcultist]

Definitely not a vegetarian, but if the meal is good he won't complain. Particularly not in the company of someone like her, a fierce attitude and a knack for a bit of fun. Cassidy doesn't dine on blood by choice, but rather necessity, he enjoys a greasy diner just as much as any human he knows.

"It's a date, then." he teases, nodding his head off behind him, "Why don't you show me the way, and I'll fill you in on the details?"

[lafemmejulie]

(We'll just note that Juliette has met a couple of vampires herself - suffice to say that for reasons best left for an application, she's older than she looks, too. It wouldn't shock her too much.)

With a gleeful grin, she packs up her fiddle and gestures. "This way, sir. I must also apologize for my rudeness. I am Juliette d'Aubigniy, entertainer, and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance in this time and place."

She leads the way to a tastefully outfitted building, where a man can be seen out front yelling at a small crowd of what could charitably be called "rabble".

[narcultist]

"No need," he scoffs, nodding back in his own manner of gestures, "Proinsias Cassidy, Cassidy works just fine."

He follows her almost giddily, it's been a while since he's gotten into a bout of trouble and he's itchy for it. Having a good accomplice certainly helps. "Alright listen, while he's distracted we head inside. I'm thinking we make a bet with the patrons or something. See if we can't get them to start a fight, maybe put a sword through my belly, yeah? You're an entertainer, right? So you play it up real good, make it a right tragedy... what do you think?"

[lafemmejulie]

"Sir, I think you plan to deceive these people into believing they have murdered you, and then fleeing in terror or to find the authorities to have the murderer punished, only to return humiliated when you are quite alive."

Beat.

"Let us begin."

[narcultist]

Cassidy is tickled by this, his hand claps her on the shoulder and he gives her a wide grin. "You see? Now I new you were bright."

He lets go, leading the way in, the doorman thoroughly distracted by the crowd. It's not a packed pub by any means, but there are enough patrons for them to have to make a proper evaluation of the scene. Cassidy is looking at their belts, finding a set of men by one end of the room with swords at their hip, perhaps individuals who will be competing later that day, or had more likely finished their round for the evening and were celebrating their victories.

"Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

[lafemmejulie]

Juliette smiles. "You do it. After you get stabbed, I will show up as your bereaved girlfriend, be hysterical, and..." She clears her throat, then speaks again. Before, it was what Cassidy would call French, but now, it's a strong an Irish accent as his own.

"All them bastards, they'll know I'm gonna take their livers if they don't run."

[narcultist]

"Oh! Impressive." he teases, then gives her a wink as he leaves her side.

As he approaches the armed men, he's as chummy with them as he would have been with his best mates, clapping them on the backs and joking about.

"Yeah, you did alright out there in the tournament proper." he chides, "But you haven't gone up against me yet."

The men all laugh, and Cassidy does too, grinning ear to ear, as personable as ever. "Bet you all the drinks you can fill your bellies with you can't beat me in a fight."

The men initially wave him off, but he's insistent. He draws a meager sword he'd swiped when preparing for the missions, egging them on again, and when one finally grows too annoyed with him to let him continue, standing and drawing his own sword, Cassidy gets the attention of the bar.

"Alright lads, we have a real duel on our hands!"

[lafemmejulie]

Still using the same accent as Cassidy, Juliette looks on from the crowd, making a scared face.

"Be careful, m'love! I don't want to see you get yourself punctured!" she calls to him, the very tone of a woman who thinks her lover is about to get in over his head but not able to get him out.

She's playing it well, like a proper partner in a con.

[narcultist]

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, darling." he calls back to her, "No one takes ol' Cassidy down that easy."

Of course, this is said right before the other man swings at him, and he nearly drops right there. Cassidy puts up a minor fight, enough that this isn't too clear of a trick, but his fighting style, even with a sword, is much rougher and more brutish than the trained swordsmen.

After a few good swings, he purposefully misses, impaling himself on the other man's blade. He looks down at it slowly as the crowd gasps, then collapses over to the ground when the man drops his sword entirely and steps back in shock.

[lafemmejulie]

Juliette throws herself at Cassidy as he slumps, tears already forming in her eyes, with a distraught "No!!" She lands next to him, laying her hand on his cheek. "Oh, no, no you fool..." She cries, a couple of tears landing on his cheek.

Then she looks around. "What are you waiting for? Someone get a chiurgeon, and someone get the sheriff so we can get that bastard," and at that she points at the man who'd been fighting with Cassidy, "into gaol where he belongs!"

Somewhere, a pig feels depressed, for it will never be as good a ham.

[narcultist]

As Cassidy bleeds out on the pub floor, his lovely new accomplice weeping over him, he tries not to grin. The crowd is audibly worked up; people are standing from their seats to get a better look, others are staring in horror, a barkeep that is clearly not paid well enough to be there is backing into another room, hoping to make an escape through the rear exit. It's sweet justice, not just because they'll have run of the bar once it's cleared, but also because he's certain they'll never get these stains out of the wood floors.

"I did it for you, my love." he croaks dramatically, feigning weakness as he reaches for her, his hand touching at her cheek.

[lafemmejulie]

The barkeep will at least be happy - Julie intends to magic the stain away.

"Oh, you daft, daft bastard..." She cries harder, then looks around.

"WELL?" she screams, "ARE YE JUST GOING TO STAND THERE LIKE SHEEP READY TO BE BUGGERED?!"