TEST DRIVE MEME

[theflaws]

TEST DRIVE MEME

PREMISE PLOT ARRIVAL SETTING NAVIGATION

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 lively, bustling markets of colorful Vairaya to the grimly efficient and stately mountain strongholds of Draichurith, 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!

Comments

the twelfth doctor | some show that's named after him

[doctordisco]

Suddenly finding himself somewhere he didn't expect to be is sort of how the Doctor's life works. If he had a pound for every time he woke up in an unfamiliar place with no idea of how he got there, he would never need to worry about money again.

(To be fair, he doesn't worry about money anyway.)

He's been wandering the universe on his own again, a lonely old man in a blue box - though right now, he appears to be missing his box, which is a worrying situation. (But waking up in a strange place without his TARDIS anywhere in sight isn't unusual for him, either. It just doesn't make him terribly happy.) He's still got a guitar slung over his shoulder, and his sonic screwdriver in the breast pocket of his navy coat, so for the moment, he's got everything he needs. If someone keeps him from his TARDIS for too long, though, there'll be hell to pay.

But right now, he's more distracted by his fellow...travellers? Prisoners? Hostages? Colonists? Perhaps all of the above.

"It's interesting," he says in an even, conversational tone to the nearest person. "Someone's taken the time and effort to subdue the lot of us and transport us here - to a place that's clearly capable of sustaining life - but they haven't left us with any supplies. Why do you suppose that is?"

[ooc: also open to wildcard prompts of your own choice! will match brackets/prose]

[bosswald]

Clara isn't the person closest to him. As a matter of fact, she's standing a few people over, but his voice catches her attention and she glances over his way. She doesn't recognize him, but she doesn't know anyone here. So that's not really out of the ordinary. And she supposes that traveling to strange places and being separated from the Doctor and the TARDIS isn't entirely new, either. But this is the first time she's been someplace without him showing up eventually, so she's a little on edge as she looks around for him. She's in the middle of doing just that when he catches her attention.

Indecision is set on her face as she turns her head and looks over, hair flipping as she does so. She's certain it was a very impressive hair flip, so she takes a moment to appreciate what it must have looked like, and finds herself smiling slightly as she answers.

"Maybe they're counting on us to make our own."

[doctordisco]

If this were a fairy tale, all of the Doctor's memories would return to him in one stunning instant, like a key settling into the tumblers of a lock. He has fragments of memories, a flash of brown hair here, the curve of a smile there, but most of what he's managed to retain are Clara-shaped holes - the places where he knows she ought to be, but she isn't. The footprints she's left in his timestream, the missing puzzle pieces in the jigsaw puzzle of his mind.

(Most people he's met would probably say he's missing a few puzzle pieces anyway, so this analogy may be slightly flawed.)

"Hell of a thing to manage. You humans don't know what goes into even the simplest piece of technology until you've got to cobble your own together. With this lot? We might manage to get up to the level of sharpened sticks in a month or so, if we can make it to fire first."

[bosswald]

She looks him over curiously, crossing her arms over her chest as she does. What he's just said sounds like a very Doctor-y thing to say, and it makes her uncomfortable because the Doctor isn't here with her and she very much so wishes he was.

"You say that like you're not human."

It comes out a tease, but the way she's looking at him, making direct eye contact shows that she's fishing for information. She doesn't mind being playful and friendly with people she's just met, but when someone says something interesting and curious she instantly wants to know more.

"And I'll have you know that I'll have a fire going within an hour."

[doctordisco]

"Oh, really? Did they teach you that when they hired you to waitress at the diner?" Because, yes, he recognises her. Well. Sort of. He knows her from the diner, anyway. "Or were you a Girl Guide in your younger years?" His tone is a little condescending and a lot sarcastic.

"Obviously you didn't get a badge in species identification," he adds. He's collected an impressive array of badges from scouting organisations across the galaxy, and made up more than a few to award people who've helped him. Their leaders may never understand why they have a badge in battle macrame, but that's all right. Adults never understand anyway.

[bosswald]

"Sorry?" Her nose wrinkles up at his question, as she's a mix of confused and offended by the way he's speaking to her. Like she's familiar to him, like he's got the right to be condescending in her direction.

"I've never been a waitress. Never been involved in collecting badges, either."

She takes a step back, almost as if she's considering turning and leaving. There's something about him that puts her on edge, and not knowing what it is scares her. So she glances over her shoulder, looking at some of the others who are here, before looking back to him.

"You have me confused with someone else. My name's Clara Oswald. Think I'd remember if we had met before." He's certainly sarcastic enough for her to remember.

[doctordisco]

"Of course you've been a waitress, I think I'd remember th-" But her introduction makes him stop in mid-sentence, his hearts suddenly pounding in his chest.

Maybe it's a coincidence. There are plenty of people named Clara out there. The entire nineteenth century is practically full of them, and that's just on Earth. But there's something hauntingly familiar about her, something that stirs the bits and pieces of memory stew in his mind and sets it to bubbling.

"Clara," he breathes, making it sound almost like a prayer.

But if this is his Clara, then she doesn't recognise him - maybe she's with Chinny, or maybe she hasn't met him at all yet. Or maybe it's the wrong Clara. He runs long fingers through his hair, a nest of wild grey curls - with the odd stick and bit of grass in it, thanks to their unknown kidnappers.

"You know," he says, back to his previous brisk and dry self, "that whole rubbing sticks together to make fire nonsense doesn't really work, if that's what you were intending to try." Because talking about making fire will at least keep his mind off the mystery of Clara - or he can pretend it will, anyway.

[bosswald]

The way he says her name reminds her far too much of the Doctor for comfort. Her eyes widen as she stares over at him, heart racing as she tries to figure out who in the hell he is. She ignores everything he says about starting a fire, because she's not interested in talking about that now. She's too focused on learning who he is.

"You know," she mocks how he talks to her, looking tiny and sassy as she stands her ground. "Typically when someone gives you their name, it's polite to give yours in return."

[doctordisco]

"Depends on where you are." He kneels down to examine some of the vegetation, plucking a blade of grass and nibbling delicately on the end. "Names mean different things in different cultures. There are some planets where telling someone your true name is absolutely forbidden because they believe it'll give the other person control over you. Some places exchange names ritually during marriage ceremonies. Some people only tell others their names before they kill them. Never tell someone your name, Clara Oswald, until you know how they're going to use it."

The Doctor straightens up, getting hit in the side of his head by the neck of his guitar. He winces and rubs the spot. "Standard Earth-like grass. Atmosphere is...well, obviously breathable for humans, similar composition, less pollution. Single sun, no way to tell how many moons," a quick jump, "standard gravity. That narrows it down to about, oh, three billion planets, give or take, not including the possibility of trans-dimensional travel."

[bosswald]

The more she watches him move about and hears him talk, the more unsettled he is. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he's the Doctor. But he can't be, his chin isn't anywhere near big enough. Still, she watches him with eyes that steadily grow wider and wider as her suspicions as to what his identity is grow. And then, he goes and mentions three billion planets and trans-dimensional travel and she's left with her jaw dropped as she stares over at him.

"You - " She tries to be accusing, but she can only sound filled with disbelief.

"You're him, aren't you." She moves in close enough to him that she's in his personal space, and tries to look up into his eyes. "You must be." The eyes aren't the same color, but there's a look there that makes her frown in concern because it's so painfully familiar.

"Doctor?" His name comes out softly, her voice breaking a little. She doesn't know how this could possibly be him, but his behavior is so erratic and the way he talks make her feel like it couldn't be anyone else but him.

[doctordisco]

What his mind doesn't remember, his body does, and there's something undeniably familiar about having her so close to him. He doesn't feel comfortable with anyone being close to him, he knows that - but with her, he does.

"Why're your eyes so big?" he asks, tilting his head slightly. That's one of those fragments of memory, too. "You look like a deer. A deer with a round face." He can't think of anything clever to say with her so close, so he takes a step back, then another, and then he's falling backwards over a rock and into the stream, his guitar sliding forward with the momentum and banging into his chest.

"Clara?" he calls out from his position, partially in the water and also on top of several mossy damp rocks. "Would you mind giving me a hand?"

[bosswald]

"I don't look like a -" She starts to snap at him, sounding very cross. But then he's stumbling and falling, and all she can do is think of how much that's something the Doctor she knows would do. His clumsiness is oddly endearing to her, and it is now, too. So she laughs, covering up her smile behind her hand.

"You still haven't said who you are," she points out as she steps in closer to him, attempting to shift his guitar so she can give him a hand to get back on your feet. "But you are him, aren't you? The Doctor?"

[valr]

"What makes you think it was a someone?"

Kara isn't - really paying attention, focused more on checking her glock to ensure that it's still got all the right pieces, and to count how many bullets she's got left. Normally she wouldn't worry so much, but something tells her that she might not have a chance to restock for a while.

[doctordisco]

His gaze flicks down to the gun, then away, and his tone grows a little frostier. "Generally, when a group of people end up in the same place at the exact same time, it's easiest to believe another entity is responsible. One or two people arriving at different times, could be the odd hole in the fabric of reality. Unlikely, but possible. Everyone unconscious, waking up at roughly the same time reeks of abduction."

[valr]

If Kara notices the shift in tone, she doesn't seem to care, simply tucking the gun into the back of her jeans once she's sure it's all in working order.

It's a bit of an awkward process with her damn wings in the way, but she tries not to look too undignified.

"Then why ain't they here to finish the job?" Whether by actually locking them up or, you know.

[doctordisco]

"Haven't figured that bit out yet. That doesn't seem like a very safe place to store your gun, you know. What if something happens and you'll never be able to sit down again? Would you just sort of hover above chairs?"

The Doctor, asking the important questions.

"If they want to kill us, there could very well be something here to do the job for them. Or maybe we're the canaries in a mine. Or maybe we're entertainment." He glances around for signs of hidden cameras. He doesn't much fancy being stuck in a bloody game show.

[valr]

This one, she decides, talks far too much.

"The safety's on," It's all she has to say on that particular topic, instead casting a glance around in silent questioning. Where's the thing coming to kill us.

"Humans ain't good enough to pull this off, and anything more powerful would't give a shit," The main creature she'd suspect would be fae, but it's lacking all the telltale signs of a fae kidnapping, so she's crossed that off her list.

[doctordisco]

"It's an oxymoron, don't you think? A gun safety. You've got a metal tube capable of firing a ballistic missile at high speed into whatever you like, including other living beings, but, oh, at least you've got a latch that keeps it from blowing your own insides to shreds. If you're lucky and nothing goes wrong, anyway." He crosses his arms over his chest. "Though at that angle, the damage would be minimised, and you'd largely have to hope you'd miss the end of your spinal cord and the femoral arteries - no organ damage, though, which is very important in terms of survival."

"Do you really think that?" He raises one bushy eyebrow. "Twenty-first century Earth humans couldn't pull it off. There's an entire galaxy out there; it's not about caring, it's about what they feel like doing, or what they think they need."

[valr]

Kara just rolls her eyes at him for the spiel about gun safety (or lack thereof), because she has a feeling nothing she can say will change her mind, and nothing he can say will change hers. It’d be a waste of breath to have an argument about it, when there’s more important things to worry about.

Like whatever this weird suggestion is about an entire galaxy.

“Are you trying to tell me it was aliens?” Says the Valkyrie. Because gods being real makes sense, but aliens are clearly nonsense.

[doctordisco]

"You've got actual real wings, and you're questioning the existence of aliens?" He eyes her dubiously, gaze lingering on said wings, as well as her shoulders. "Because, let me tell you something, winged humans? Don't really work from a physics perspective. Not humans with twenty-first century technology. Genetically engineered humans in, oh, several centuries, maybe a millennia or two, crossbred with species from planets where the natives have avian root DNA, and on planets with lower gravity."

"Nobody who looks like you," he finishes helpfully. "Not in the realities I'm used to. So as much as I hate the word magic, which, for the record, is quite a lot, I'm going to assume that it's a part of your everyday life. So if you're magic, then questioning the existence of extraterrestrial life is...well, I assume you can see the irony in it."

[valr]

"Valkyrja," Is the first response he gets, a simple explanation for what she is beyond just saying magic. Which isn't to say that she isn't magic, at least partly, but that's such a wide category that she feels the need to get a little specific.

Also, the whole avian root DNA and genetically engineers went right over her head.

"And it ain't ironic. I exist, little green spacemen don't. The gods would have known."

She has a very small worldview.

[doctordisco]

"Really? You mean Odin never mentioned me?" There's a mock look of surprise on his face, and never mind that blaspheming in front of a valkyrie isn't the wisest idea. "Well, I suppose he wouldn't. I'd be a terrible einherjar - have to die first, for one thing. Valhalla's always sounded awfully dull to me, anyway. Great for a Norse warrior, I have to admit, but drinking and partying for all of eternity? I don't even like mead, and mead milked from a goat sounds dubious."

"Besides," he continues, waving a hand, "calling all aliens little and green is seriously racist, and Midgard isn't literally limited to just Earth. Well, maybe it is in your reality, but that makes the physics of basically everything extremely suspect, and not just ladies with wings."

ohboy

[ashildr]

"Whoever took the time to prepare all of this isn't expecting us to stay here, of course."

At least there's someone she knows here. Well, sort of, she's still a bit unclear on how the whole erasing-clara-from-his-memory deal affects her in the grand scheme of things... not that something like that has ever stopped The Doctor to chat up strangers. Or pseudo-strangers, whatever.

"Chances are, villages and cities are close by." Unless this is a trap devised by someone, then it doesn't really matter, or so she thinks.

[doctordisco]

His eyes narrow at the sight of Ashildr - Me, whatever she's calling herself these days. His memory is a tricky thing; he's had to piece together fragments by working around what he knows is missing (Clara, in this case). But he remembers her involvement in Clara's death, her manipulations. He remembers their little escapade in the Middle Ages perfectly well, since Clara wasn't around for that at all. He's not sure how to feel about her, but he doesn't think he likes her very much right now, and he certainly doesn't trust her.

"If there are any settlements. Chances are equally good we're expected to be colonists - think of it as an interstellar Australia, perhaps." There's no way of telling which is accurate, except to set out in a randomly chosen direction and hope they encounter either someplace more hospitable or a place occupied by other sentient beings.

[ashildr]

Well, it seems he does remember her.

"Colonists? I think that's giving us too much credit." Because they are the epitome of a rat tag group of strangers. "Wasn't Australia meant to be a jail?" Her memory is fuzzy on the details, to no one's surprise.