flawedmemes | TEST DRIVE MEME

Entry tags:

test drive

TEST DRIVE MEME

01. ARRIVING IN PELEA
A cold wind singing down from the white-capped mountains which hang blue-black in the distance stirs your cheek, the tall grass all around you. A bough creaks as the wind makes it tremble, and the dappled shadows drift over you, leaves rustling. As you blink awake, you hear the quiet hiss of water over stones. You are not where you once were!

You and a large group of strangers are blinking awake, pulling yourselves up off the dirt, grass, and rubble near a small wooded stream. There is no evidence of civilization in sight, and as you exchange stories you realize that you must decide what to do.

Will you head past the trees and towards the mountains? Deeper into the forest? Stay put and wait for help to arrive? You might even try to meet everyone else, and either convince them to band together... or head their separate ways.

02. CITY SLICKER
There are many cities throughout the world of Pelea, and in most player characters, the Flaws, are welcomed as curiosities. From the pastoral villages or bustling, grand cities of Shousal to the massive, sprawling bureaucratic centers of the Empire, your characters will find a wide variety of cultures and races to interact with and investigate. They could be seeking empoyment, answers to the mystery of their arrival, or a quiet place to drink away their worries.

03. WILDCARD!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

→ in the big city

[ There's a celebration in town today, with an archery competition. Nyssa is in her black League uniform, with red accents on the sleeves and shoulders. Her compound bow is hidden in her clothes as are her daggers, and instead, she is hovering near the table where the bows have been provided. One round with recurve, the other with longbow, for fairness. Her fingers brush the fine wood. ]

[ Brightly, to you, ]

I hope you are prepared to lose.

→ in the forest

[ Hunting alone is not rare; she goes for creatures and bandits. Farmers are charged in food and shelter, those in the city can give coin. The name of al Ghul means nothing here. Creature comforts are missed (instant noodles, what an odd craving), but freedom is exhilarating. She eats, sleeps under the stars, and hunts what she wishes, works for her own keep. ]

[ It so happens you both are on the same path, one not oft-travelled. She appears out of the trees, like a shadow. ]

What business do you have here?

→ wildcard it up

[ run into Nyssa at the market, at an armoury examining knives, bring it. ]

01. Arrival

The first thing Charles notices is the smell. The smell of dirt, and earth, completely different from what he's used to, the sand and heat and rotting smells of Nassau. Here, wherever he is, it smells...clean, and it's cold, despite the sun, high up in the sky.

Standing up with his face tilted up to the sky, Charles determines that it's close to noon. Quickly, he makes the stream a few yards away, and notes the direction of its flow. A forest, a scarred mountain, a stream.

Charles will always follow the water. He can see other people around him, other people that seem just as disoriented as he is. He grunts to himself, scanning the group of people; none of them come from Nassau, even less part of his crew.

Wherever he is, he doesn't care. Only thing he cares about is finding a way back, and that usually takes a ship. And he can't really man a ship by himself.

Sighing to himself, he digs in his pockets for a half-smoked cigar, and stick it between his teeth as he makes his decision. He needs some crewmen. "Whoever wants to go home via sail, come along. I'm getting a ship."

---

02. Eveka

Charles runs his fingers over the grainy wood of the tavern table he's sitting at, contemplating his almost finished tankard of ale with a frown. He's been in Eveka for a few weeks now, seeking a town that felt like home and settling here, amongst the smugglers and the thieves, blending in as good as he could. He's found a few odd jobs, here and there, but nothing like a prize, and nothing close to getting himself a ship, which - well, overall, is not only depressing, it's also getting increasingly boring. He wants to be back on the water; he wants his crew back, and he wants The Ranger back.

But while none of this is happening, his odd jobs have kept him in shelter, food and ale, but funds are running low once again. He's been trying to find a way to the islands from which he knows some pirates operate - at least to survey the operation, if not find better fortune there, but getting there will cost him money, money he doesn't have right now.

He scans the room, and whistles sharply, garnering attention. "Looking for somewhere where I can make a quick buck. Any ideas?"

--

03. Wildcard

The ship has been sailing for three days, and Charles has not felt this good in weeks. He stands at the quarterdeck, head tilted to the sun as wind blows through his hair, the splash of the ocean drizzling regularly as they cross waves, headed to Byrint Bay.

Of course, this ship is legit, and Charles is captaining it only on merit - the real captain suffering from unfortunate broken legs, stuck in his quarters for the remainder of the journey. But he's at the head of a crew again, and much can happen from that point forward.

Before he commandeers the ship, though - there's a part of Charles that feels like he has to deliver its passengers safe to Sunvault - the whole point of the journey. They paid his and his crew's wages, and even if most say there's no honor among thieves - they'd be wrong. They have a crew of 25 and a total of 15 passengers, and Charles Vane will see them to their destination before attempting to turn the crew, and keep the ship.

"You shouldn't do that," he tells one of his passengers then, seeing them lean over the rail. "It only takes a stronger gust of wind, and," Charles clicks and waves his fingers, smirking. "We wouldn't want that."

Edited 2016-07-04 15:08 (UTC)

[ The golden-scaled dragon in the crook of his burly arm screeched a trilling cry of warning and agitation, leathery wings fanning out. Though easily the size of a medium-sized dog, it looked no bigger than a cat against the backdrop of his caretaker.

Drogo, hair and beard tidily shorn, wearing the spare, un-ornamented garb of a low-class Draichurithan soldier, eyed the shadow for a long moment.

And then, unperturbed, drawled, ]

You own these trees?

[ the woman who appears doesn't seem to startle Kandara at all, not for her sudden appearance, anyway. In her usual hardy trousers - for what else can a woman wear when she spends her life in a forest - and blouse, she seems as much a part of the forest as the trees do, wandering paths with ease and a sense of belonging. ]

I- [ She pauses and tilts her head. Real life, actual human here? Oh, she's going to have to keep herself from getting too excited, but Kandara does smile, brilliantly, at her new acquaintence. ] I was unwinding.

[ And, after a beat; ] Are you also at home in the forest?

[ A dragon. She suppresses her wonder, naturally, a beast is a beast no matter how mythical, and other creatures like it walk these forests. She raises her chin up, defiantly, staring him down; no tightening of grip on her bow or reaching for any of the arrows in the quiver slung over her back. ]

A question demands an answer.

I am.

[ A forest, a city. A crow thrives everywhere and so do weeds — though she's neither the traits are learnt. Women are no less of a threat than men, but they draw out Nyssa's softness like poison from a wound. She smiles at Kandara. ]

These woods are dangerous. Can you defend yourself?

[ Did it, though? He contemplated her a little more and after a split-second of indecision, just made a vulgar gesture with his offhand and crooned an encouraging sound at the dragon. That's right, little king, show her your teeth. ]

There's your answer.

A wooden horse over the poison water.

In the back of his mind, thoughts crawled like hissing spiders, whispering as he heaved bile up over the railing that he'd only thought that losing his braid had been the worst day of his life. But nothing about that shame could compare to this utter, raw, physical memory. He'd been gutstabbed and hated it less than this weak retching, this senseless tossing and blubbering and--

"P-piss off you... you," he retched over the railing again, "You goatfucking whoreson wooden-horse-sailing-shitting-bastard--" spat into the sea again, white knuckling the wood. He was sheeting sweat and waxy white.

[The smithy's is always busy, but it seems even worse today. Maybe he shouldn't have picked market day to go out and buy some much needed supplies, but. What's done is done, and there is something oddly comforting about a crowd. It's easy to influence a crowd.

When a hand goes for the dagger he was looking to purchase, Charles drops his hand over the simple hilt, and he turns steely blue eyes to the woman standing next to him.]

This one's mine, lady.

[Sorry, he's just very particular about his weapons.]

[ Her eyebrows tick upwards briefly. ]

This is my hunt. A better question is: how badly do you wish for an arrow through your eye?

It is summer, girl. And the traveling party beyond the treeline has made enough noise to scare away game. You would have better luck with snares on smaller beasts than with arrows.

Or, come with me to the river, and let Rhaegal fish for you. He is better than any arrow.

[ He nodded to indicate the dragon, which trilled quietly at the sound of its name, uncertainty receding in the wake of such (bullishly idiotic) confidence from the man who carried him. ]

[ That seems to make the brightness of her smile increase. Excellent. People who like the forest, feel at home in it? They have to be good people. ]

I have my ways. [ And, because she's a show off, there's a quick demonstration. Kandara closes her eyes, concentrates her power into the palm of her hand and conjures a sphere of water, manipulating it into fancy spirals. ] There are many things magic can manage.

My apologies. It's a good knife.

[ She withdraws her hand; there are other knives, with better balances. ]

[ Wolves are at home in the forest, as are bears. Nyssa relates a little more to tigers. She watches the display, clearly fascinated, her wonder unrestrained. ]

Oh? Such as?

shopping;

[ Blending into surroundings is something Alysia does not need instruction in. She walks the streets of Sunvault with no impediment, looking like a servant girl in the market or perhaps the daughter of a worker. Whatever their assumptions, it matters little. She has work to do. Alysia has been taken from her home and from her mission, her revenge, and Gods be damned if she will let that stand.

But first, she needs supplies.

Alysia can be found at various shops that sell herbs, tinctures, and tonics, perhaps an alchemist's tent or two. The herbs she looks for range from the innocuous to the deadliest in her search for anything that can be turned into sleeping draughts or deadly poisons.

Don't be surprised if she's critical of anyone else looking for herbs, giving them a skeptical eye. ]

If you're looking for something to ease pain, I would try the Valerian root. What you have there is too strong.

the streets - evening;

[ Killing and potion brewing aren't the only talents she has. Born to a bard's life of secrets and decorum, she has also been trained in song and instrument both. It has not brought her joy in what feels like forever - since she lost her position, since the bounty has been placed on her head - and playing it now feels...wrong. It's as if someone else is playing. But the tavern allows her to play for a little bit of coin (provided she give the owners a cut of her share, and play she does. Some songs are joyful and others are not, some accompanied with her voice or merely with humming.

By the end of the night, she has enough coin in donations to obtain some travel clothes, perhaps a dress nice enough to pass for a lady of standing, and for supplies.

That is, until the owners try to stiff her. ]

We agreed upon twenty percent, not fifty. Your harp is yours and I mean not to take it.

[ But there are murmurs that she is one of Them, one of these newcomers that seem to have some on edge. Her rising fury only seems to make people ill at ease. The owner insists that she's bound to bring trouble and fifty percent, at least, will keep them protected.

A wise woman might not argue, not with so many watching. She reigns in her temper long enough to haggle for forty (and sweetly, through a facade of gentility), take her earnings, and leave out the door.

That doesn't stop a guard or two from following her.

Warn her? Help her? Or follow at a safe distance? ]

wildcard;

[ Anything and EVERYTHING else! Info HERE if you need - sorry for the bare bones. ]

Edited 2016-07-04 16:02 (UTC)

Unable to help himself, Charles actually barked out a laugh at the weak string of insults. Nothing he hadn't heard before, and really, really kind of hilarious, considering the current state of the man.

Sure, he was big and imposing, impressive in stature, but since they'd set sail, he'd been a mess. Charles would be called a goatfucking whoreson a thousand times over being in this kind of pathetic state for being on a ship.

He'd honestly feel insulted if he gave two shits about the man. As it was, Charles didn't. He had no reason to be threatened, and the moment he would be - back on solid earth - he'd turn right around. he was way too happy to be holding a ship to be bothered by a couple of weak insults.

"Such a shame you're in this state. I should probably go tend to your wife, make sure she's got everything she needs while you're unable to provide..."

He might be happy, it didn't mean he had any self-preservation.

[He gives her an appraising look, taking a slow drag of his almost finished cigar, hanging from the corner of his lips.]

Got experience in that?

[The kind of people he's met around this place, he wouldn't be surprised if she was some weapons specialist. Pelea took all sorts, from down-on-their-luck pirates to prim-and-proper ladies. Charles was curious to know which rung of the ladder this particular lady held on to.]

[ An archery contest? There's the option to gain a new bow - if she can steal it - and coin for spending. It is well worth the potential, even if she enters under yet another false name - Tresa. Her hair is tucked in such a way that it seems shorter than it truly is and she is dressed in a simple tunic and pants. The bows she sees are adequate, though nothing in comparison to the weapon she once had in her home.

She hears a woman's voice and looks up. Nyssa's teeth are like that of a tiger's, she feels, all glitter and danger. Alysia smiles, tips her head. ]

I might, my lady, but I would enjoy the challenge just the same. My brother taught me the bow so long ago... It would please me greatly to make him proud to enter such a contest, regardless of outcome.

[ She gestures to the bows. ]

Which do you favor?

I am after bandits.

[ Airily. She does offer the dragon a small, respectful nod. ]

The farmers on the outskirts of the city want their hide and heads. They are on this road, towards the mountains.

Was the water below boiling? Drogo felt suffused with awful heat. His pulse hammered in his temple like the thunder of a thousand panicked horses all racing over the plain, and his mouth had gone dry.

Through a veil of red rage he turned to look at the other man, slinging an arm around the railing to keep his buckling legs underneath him.

"I'll tear out your throat with my teeth and pull your heart out through the hole to give her," he promised. "No man is worthy of her."

I'll kill you for speaking such dishonor of her, I'll kill you, I'll kill you, the thoughts were a mad jumble made only madder by the ship's heaving and tossing.

[ She drifts away, to a nearby shelf, looking over knives of the same size. Nyssa is surrounded by a cloud of self-assurance, an absolute lack of fear. ]

Plenty. [ a beat, and she adds, ] I hunt.

[If there's something that Charles has always appreciated, in both women and men, it was confidence. Self-assurance was a trait absolutely decisive in his trade, and it was a trait he could absolutely respect. It was definitely something he found attractive.]

Oh really? [He raises an eyebrow.] You hunt what, exactly?

Tilting his head, Charles widened his stance on the deck, so utterly steady on his feet the man in front of him was barely more than a farce.

"You shouldn't threaten the one man that is able to get you back ashore, that seems ill-advised," Charles replied, a hand at his belt, fingers comfortably close to the dagger is never parted from - just in case. He was foolhardy, sure, but he also wasn't going to entirely dismiss Drogo. Foolhardy, but not a fool. "And as I said, it really is a matter of a second for someone to inadvertently lose balance, and end up belly down in the water. And we wouldn't want that."

Now, his curiosity was picked in an entirely different way. To be true, Charles had no interest in the man's wife. She and her dragons made Charles ill-at-ease more than anything else. Of course, he would bed her would she ask, but he wouldn't pursue her if he had the opportunity.

"If no man truly is worthy of her, how did you manage to wed her?"

[ Animals are friends. And for every hunter, there's a protector and a spirit.

Although she can't feel them here.

At the question, Kandara giggles and lets the water fly into the nearby soil, providing moisture for a sapling. ]

Well. - Have you ever flown before? [ It's asked as Kandara places her hands parallel to the ground and begins to levitate. The only limit is her knowledge. ]

[ Bandits? He looked from her towards the path which stretched into the foothills. Pursed his mouth, clearly considering the idea. After a long silence, he asked, ]

Are they riders?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 24

TEST DRIVE MEME

nyssa al ghul | arrow

Captain Charles Vane | Black Sails | will match style

In the Forest

forest

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Wildcard

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Alysia | OC

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject