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

[eightfootprincess]

...My knife skills are pretty good? I never knew my mother, though.

[Not a CLUE what mise en place was.]

[dralchemist]

................... "mother sauces" are the five basic sauces that all other sauces are based on. [Completely deadpanned.]

And you're sure about that? I'm sure you've got combat skills, but, uh. In cookery, knife skills is more about precision and consistency. Making sure everything cooks the same way at the same time.

[eightfootprincess]

Okay fine I have NO idea what I'm doing. Is that what you want to hear? I already explained about the ration bars thing!

[Admitting she can't do something always leaves Adora feeling a bit uncomfortable. Never let them see you sweat. Always watch your back. Trust no one. That's life in the Horde.]

[dralchemist]

It's better to know what you don't know. Especially when you're dealing in situations where overconfidence means that you're gonna lose your fingers.

[Look. She gets it. Admitting weakness was a real big hurdle she had to run into over and over and over... and over and over. But at this point, she's also more than willing to use her past anxieties to help other people with theirs.] I bet there's a shitton that you'd be able to teach me! But this is my area of expertise, and the more "fingers in chili" incidents I can prevent, the better.

[eightfootprincess]

I'm pretty sure I can avoid THAT, at least.

[Rule one of knife fighting: do not cut off your own fingers.

Adora huffed quietly. She knew, intellectually, that the Horde did not teach healthy coping mechanisms. Izzy was probably entirely correct here.

It still was frustrating sometimes, though, trying to ignore those old instincts.]

But I will try to be a...good student, I guess?

[dralchemist]

[It's real inferiority solidary hours in this kitchen car tonight.]

I'm sure you will. But for now... all of this chicken ain't gonna eat itself. [Some of the previous mole chicken she was working on, she puts onto a plate with a nice serving of rice. A little extra sauce, a hit of pepper right at the end and...

... it's handed right to Adora.] Here. I'd say you earned it, but that'd sound like you only get food if you do work, which is a really shitty attitude.