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voidtreckerooc2021-02-16 06:00 am
voidtreckermods) wrote in voidtreckerooc2021-02-16 06:00 am
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Test Drive Meme 021
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.
Happy testing!
Spring Cleaning
Chores aren’t for everyone. And, as the morning reaches a close, it turns out that they are especially not for wizards.
That is to say, someone may have cast a spell animating all of the mops, brooms and dishcloths on-board, which are now sweeping their way up and down the carriages, cleaning everything - and everyone - they can reach. And animating anything else they can find, for maximum efficiency. Books, clothing, cutlery-
This isn’t so bad in the bathrooms. In the library, however? The armory? Bang, and the dirt is gone.
Open Mic
The ground floor of the music carriage is usually a mess of instruments, but tonight they’ve all been tucked away neatly at one end of the room. Chairs from the upper floor have been carried down en masse, all facing towards the jukeboxes and screens at the other end.
You might not be entirely sure who rigged them for karaoke, but you know one thing: you’re here now, a drink in one hand and a list of popular (by someone’s standards) songs in the other. If people aren’t singing or waiting to sing, they’re cheering friends on, or skulking and trying everything in their power not to be called up, or even escaping upstairs to talk more comfortably.
’Til Death Do Us Part
The world of Abarranz is ruled by the Undying Lords, and has been for almost two thousand years. The civilisation has stagnated - not only due to the immortal council, but also because the majority of its citizens are undead. Some, the rich, the powerful, are able to undergo great rituals to maintain their consciousness and skill even in death; others are unfortunate enough to be dragged into death with neither, and exist as shells of themselves. The greatest necromancers of the planet are harnessing the death of a minor star in the system to fuel a mass conversion of the remaining populace, but the remaining living citizens are those who have already refused the change. Voidtreckers, they cannot resist alone.
Team One
Pockets of the living survive in hiding, but are split off from one another and unable to unify under the overwhelming forces surrounding their enclaves. This first team is tasked with clearing the mindless hordes threatening them, so that they might establish communications, venture out, and join the fight.Team Two
The best way to escape the ritual is to remove the remaining living to another colony in the system - but the rituals and spells able to do so are all jealously guarded by the eternal council in their libraries and vaults. A viable target has been identified - the treasure rooms of the Viscount Eldermann holds a tome rumoured to contain a mass teleportation ritual. Infiltrating and securing this tome is this team’s task, and while the mission is possible, the traps and guards won’t make it easy.Team Three
Even with these plans in motion, every second counts. This third team is given the role of saboteur - to interrupt, delay or otherwise slow the Grand Ritual of a Star’s Demise from within the stronghold of the Undying Lords. The dressing carriage - and their SCA wristbands - are at their disposal, the former for appropriate Abarranz costume and pallor, the latter to hide the telltale signs of life, should they have any.
Vander Reighn | Original | OTA
On the one hand, Vander had seen some shit. On the other, nothing had exactly prepared him for cleaning supplies coming to life and trying to 'clean' him. He was wrestling with a mop and doing his best not to break it in half while a broom repeatedly smacked him from behind, evidently trying to knock any dirt off of him instead of sweeping him.
"This is ridiculous!"
His hands slipped on the mop and it fwomped right into his face, dirty and wet. Immediately, he pushed it away, scrubbing his sleeve over his face frantically.
"Oh, gross," he muttered.
He could really use a hand with that broom behind him.
Open Mic
Nope, this was not his thing. Or rather, he hadn't had enough alcohol yet for this to be his thing. He lurked in the back of the room, as far away from the jukeboxes as he could get, sipping at his drink and hunching down a little to be less tall. He didn't know if it was working or if he was trying too hard to be inconspicuous, thus making himself entirely conspicuous.
He was sure there were plenty of people who would go up willingly, right? No one would go and try to force him up there...right?
Team One
This was much more his style. The undead might not be the same as demons, but they weren't any harder, either. He might have been without his team and his usual weapons, but he'd worked hard to make himself a weapon, too. With a little improvisation and some makeshift weapons, he waded into the hordes and started swinging.
It wasn't like he had to worry about infection--these weren't the typical zombies. At least, he hoped they weren't, because he had enough to worry about as it was, like that undead over there rushing him only to be met with a kick to the chest, or the undead to his left shambling towards him, which he punched in the face before swinging one of his makeshift weapons.
"All right, I maybe underestimated how many of them there are." There were enough that he was breaking a sweat, and he was used to back-up. Which he didn't have right now. Because he'd charged forward on his own. That might have been a mistake. Whoops.
Spa Car
He'd never been in a spa in his life but it was never too late to experience something, right?
Wearing a simple pair of swim trunks, he settled himself into the hot water, sighing softly. The temperature was really good for sore, stiff muscles, and now that he was relaxing, he was wondering why he'd never done this before. He had a healthy tan and there was a scattering of scars across his upper body, including his arms. Here or there were marks that looked like they'd been inflicted with sharp claws, others with blades. Some of them were fresher, but most of them older and faded.
He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. Though he wasn't expecting company, he wouldn't turn anyone away, either. This was just as much their space as it was his.
Open Mic
Unfortunately, Caster is a dick.
"Hey buddy, you haven't gone up yet?" This is what she says as she casually sidles over, a drink of her own in hand. "Pretty much everybody else has gone up already, I think it's your turn. That's only fair, isn't it?"
no subject
He wasn't the world's most convincing liar in the current moment, which didn't do him any favors. He just really didn't want to get up there in front of all these people and risk making a fool of himself.
no subject
Caster was made up of humanity's combined hatred towards conmen and swindlers. Which meant that she enjoyed seeing people flounder. "Hey! Save the next spot for this guy!" she calls out. Then, back to him, "What's your name anyway?"
The question was to distract him from protesting.
no subject
"How do you know I don't sound like a cat getting its tail stepped on? Maybe I'm saving everyone's ears by not getting up there. Also, it's Vander," he said, all in one breath. Never underestimate his ability to protest while remaining polite enough to answer questions.
no subject
Mostly she wants to see him squirm a bit more and this seems like a good way.
"Also, I'm Caster."
no subject
"I just don't want to be stuck in everybody's minds as 'that guy who made a fool of himself because he can't sing'." Of course, he'd been paying attention and not everyone who'd gone up there could really sing and he didn't judge a single one of them, so maybe he was just being too self-conscious.
Team One
But, then again, he did have the whole “dead guy” thing going on.
“No shit?” He asked in mock surprise, before using the aforementioned ukulele as a weapon, in a rare effort to be helpful.
no subject
He raised his eyebrows before looking over. "Hey, if you're not going to make an actual effort to help, you don't get to complain." Even if the guy was just agreeing with Vander about...Vander's slightly dumb decisions.
no subject
As he rambled he casually swapped his opponent's own weapon with a mai tai, with a bored wave of his hand, just before doing an emotional 180 and slashing at the befuddled attacker with the very knife his opponent had been previously carrying.
no subject
"Isn't it better to have potential?" He'd rather have potential than be a loser, personally. "And they're clearly a different type of dead." If they were all like this guy...well, Vander would be trying even harder to get rid of them all.
no subject
Beetlejuice did pride himself on being irritating. Irritated people meant he was visible.
"If it means being roped into doing grunt work? I'd say it's better to not have potential."
no subject
"I guess grunt work isn't always the best, but we're helping people, aren't we? Saving lives is its own reward." In his opinion, at least.