Test Drive #2

[felldenmods]

Welcome to the September test drive! We're so excited to have you with us.

A few things of note:

✦ Test drive threads can be considered game-canon if you choose. They're essentially in a shared dreamscape and take place between your character leaving their world, and arriving in the audience hall with their faction leader.
✦ Reserves will open at 12:01 AM UTC on October 1st, and continue to be until 11:59 PM UTC on October 7th; they are not necessary to apply! They're valid for the first four days of the application cycle.
✦ Applications will open at 12:01 AM UTC on the 8th, and remain open until 11:59 PM UTC on the 15th. The IC & OOC intro logs will be posted two days later.
✦ Working on your app and not sure where you put your character? We have a faction sorting meme available for people to make use of!
✦ Questions? We have a FAQ that's chock full of good information! If they are test drive specific, we have a top level thread below that allows for OOC questions to be posted.
✦ The network is available to use! No matter where your character is, their compass arrived on their person. Please feel free to include a network post in your top-levels! Once opened, the compass will display instructions on use, such as using voice-commands to activate it. Usernames are your characters first name or their most common nickname.

All set? Perfect! Welcome to Fellden.

AS THE MOON RISES. You’ll find yourself just outside the Temple doors, which will be locked if you try to open them. A little rude, keeping you out after bringing you all this way. The thing is, you can hear a lot of commotion in the distance, and smoke rising from the center of a district; you may want to check that out. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire! Except the smoke is not at all something to be concerned over. Instead, people are gathered near a large bonfire in the decorated city square, drinking and carousing, singing songs of celebration; Moon saviors have arrived! War winners! The residents of the city laugh and sing and dance in pairs throughout the square, grateful for those who have come to aid them. Their merriment doesn’t dwindle as the sun begins to set on the horizon, twin moons rising in its place. When you (and other new arrivals) are finally noticed by the revelers, do not expect to be left alone! Flower crowns will be deposited upon your heads, food and drink placed into your hands, while live musicians play loud enough for the dead to hear. You’ll be invited to dance, to drinking games, and offered food and flowers and other items of value. Some may cry when they look into your face, thanking you for becoming their champions during this long and exhaustive war. Hopefully you’re here to enjoy the festivities. Sneaking off is just fine, too, but don’t expect to be let go of quietly; the people of the Moon Temple are so happy to see you! Enjoy the celebration while it lasts long into the night.

THE SETTING STARS. Unlike the Temple, your arrival to the Court of Stars is met with a rather somber greeting, however expressions are relieved, despite any emotional guard that may be up. A gathering of knights, weary from a skirmish along the border they're returning from, pat you on the back and lead you through an open air courtyard. All the gathered people of the Emperor's Court look up from their tasks, giving the passing Otherworlders a knowing nod. There's gratitude in their eyes, but that's all the welcome you'll receive: your presence is appreciated, but growing an attachment is another heartache for those that care so deeply for their faction fellows. The silence is broken when a high-ranking member of the guard gives the proclamation: "Our heroes have arrived! Court defenders, world travelers! Help has come from the far lands to aid us in our battles for our Emperor, for all of Fellden!" From there, the few knights that have not yet departed will lead you through the Court's castle, a brief tour of the most important areas (dining hall, housing wing, guard barracks, and the throne room) is given before they instruct you to rest, because the real excitement begins when the sun falls behind the horizon. Left to drift, you can explore the castle, or venture out to the surrounding city as it prepares for the celebration the Starfolk have in store for the returned soldiers and, now, the new arrivals. You'll be invited to the party that spreads across the entire Court city, drawn into large circle dances, and will find that the locals become more at ease and welcoming the longer you spend with them.

BACK TO SCHOOL. School is back in session and Terebellum is here to tell you all about the benefits of the University! Come for a tour (except for the library which remains closed and well guarded), meet some current students, see what all the fuss is about when it comes to this prestigious institution! With All Hallow's next month, the students of Terebellum have decided to pay homage to many of the games and decorations that will be found around the country that night! Carving pumpkins or other seasonal squash, bobbing for apples fresh from the harvest, or watch as Illusion students wow you with life-like displays of dancing skeletons. There are booths for each school of magic as well as all other subjects taught at the University, others are dedicated to businesses within the city that hire students. There will be cycles of tours that will show you the University grounds and all it has to offer! Get paired up for a small tour group to enjoy the sights or bump into a new arrival (or old guard) while listening to people speak at various booths. As the only major University in the country, Terebellum accepts people from all walks of life, regardless of faction affiliation. Come meet some fellow potential students, learn from current ones about the atmosphere, or participate in some of the booth activities.

Comments

square.

[lie]

[ Every mission involves a good cover. Old habit, new town. Natasha smiles at the right people, laughs at the right jokes, lets a mother braid her hair back to twine flowers into it. There's both public love and public forgiveness here. To unpack it, you need to live it. Adaptability's the watchword.

There's a relaxed ease to the set of her shoulders. Natasha's been nursing the same mug for the whole night. There was a pin of a daisy on her collarbone before, and she gave it away; now, there's nothing but a small twist of baby's breath and white dahlias around her head. ]

That depends. [ Mildly, ] Are you going to give me something?

[ There's a friendly amusement there, even if it seems buried under something more thoughtful. She gives him a glance over. Smiles. ]

Sure. Have a seat.

[pridecroweth]

( his answering smile is sharp, but he eases himself down on the bench anyway. he takes up a lot of space, though he doesn't actively muscle in on hers. he just sits with easy, open posture. on the job, it makes him approachable. here, it might make him vulnerable. how many times can you get shot before your guard goes up? at least once more. )

The pleasure of my charming company isn't payment enough? I'm hurt.

( he takes the slightly battered flower crown out of his hair, mostly so he can comb his fingers through it and tie it back at the nape of his neck with a band from around his wrist. )

Name's Sam. By the fact you're not throwing yourself at my feet in a gesture of really over-the-top deference, I'm guessing you're not a local?

[lie]

[ She huffs a short, companionable laugh. Crosses one leg over the other, the raised leg pointed towards him rather than away. Opens her body language rather than shuttering it behind benign neutrality. ]

You got me. [ The crown sheds a few tiny buds when she moves her head. A couple little white flowers, no larger than a fingerbed, bounce off her shoulder. ] Natasha.

[ She doesn't offer a shake. But she does arch her brow a little, looking back out onto the scene. Revelry, of a kind. Crackling fire, the smell of ashy wood and smoke. ]

Any chance of you being used to any of this? [ 'This' is pretty amorphous. She'll take either/or. Bonfire parties, talk about champions, warfare, magic. Pick your poison. ]

[pridecroweth]

( he was homicide before he transferred to juvenile offenders. he knows how the greats all do it, the tells. he's used to looking for them, and he knows when someone is receptive to conversation — or at least when they're good at pretending they are. human interaction is a complicated thing in and of itself, layered with complexities not the least of which are emotions. he has no reason to be suspicious of her, and so he isn't. but everyone here is bound to have their own agendas.

he watches the flower buds rain from the red halo of her hair. the artist in him appreciates the symbolism — it'd make a nice picture.

she asks him that question, and he thinks about peeling the layers back. less like an onion and more like the epidermis, scratching at the skin until blood wells up. poison indeed. he fusses briefly with his hair and then sets the crown back in its place with an idle gesture to it as it settles. )

Well, the flower crowns are new.

[lie]

[ Agreeably, ]

More jewelry than I expected.

[ Rings, pins, little crystal figurines. Natasha's glance slides sidelong and settles on him for a beat. She's looking at him. Doesn't attempt to hide that. It's the curious study of a stranger -- someone who's trying to read him, not out of paranoia but out of the pull of newness. The way the easy nature sits on his shoulders reminds her of Clint. Makes her think about Leipzig, so she shuttles that thought back, lifts a shoulder into a shrug instead. Nostalgia services nobody. ]

Savior seems like a stretch. [ She offers. Less cynicism, more pragmatism. ]

[pridecroweth]

( if he had a pack of smokes, he'd probably reach for one right now. instead, his fingers tap along the back of the bench, his elbow bent as it drapes over it. )

A little premature, at the very least.

( here they come to save the day? the locals could at least wait until the dust has settled. he lifts that fidgeting hand up, rubs his fingers against his mouth in a speculative motion. drops the hand again. )

You know, I've already been in two wars. I wasn't looking for a 'third time's the charm' option. Their recruitment values leave a lot to be desired.

( he doesn't like to talk about it. at eighteen, it had been about national vengeance. in hindsight, he's ashamed to have participated in the conflicts at all. everything is always clearer the older you get. but it's a useful skillset, and he doubts he'll be able to keep the cat in the bag. better to control how the information gets out. he's far too cursed with the moralistic urge to do the right thing to keep it — and what he knows — to himself. )

[lie]

[ She makes a little noise, neither here nor there. Active listening. Natasha's years of being a covert operative have been a little skewed lately. Congressional testimony, leaked files, Sokovia. The Avengers, press releases, moving upstate into a branded building. She understands the urge that comes for people who want help. You act, and you help alleviate. It's not such a strange story.

It's different in war. Global politics in a foreign land, even after a recruitment spiel, needs a deft touch. History says that coming into a land not your own and acting like a blunt instrument is-- well, it's not good.

Natasha brushes a stray petal off the round of her knee. Uses that beat to think, before: ]

No magic, though?

[ With the readable and slightly wry implication that 'magic' is also new for her, mostly. They all seem to come from different worlds here. Who knows where he's from. ]

[pridecroweth]

( there's a moment between heartbeats when you make the conscious choice to lie. a little sliver of time-space, the pleural space of the lungs. if he says there is no magic, he's closing a door and making it more difficult, later, to be trusted.

if he says there is, he gives himself away.

he's an honest man by nature. he doesn't like lying, and it doesn't sit easy on his tongue. but there are other things to think of. sam cants his head. )

Lot of things in the world I don't pretend to understand.

( it's a compromise. the best answer he's got. there's more than just himself to think of, here. )

[lie]

[ She gives him a long, level look. It's not accusatory. If she fixed him with one before, this one's plainer -- there's something focused and blank in the way she takes him in. Natasha's the one to look away first. Laughs, the kind that makes her turn to the side a little, makes her hair sway with the momentum in duck of her head. It's a fissure of feeling in an otherwise calm sea. ]

You're a little mysterious, Sam.

[ Statement. A conclusion of fact, though she smiles at him when she says it. ]

Anyone ever tell you that's annoying?

[pridecroweth]

( the laugh he busts out with is anything but mysterious. it's chest-deep, complete with a hand clapped against his chest to accompany the amusement. )

You know what, no, I've actually never been called mysterious before in my life. I am a very boring, very open book.

( that's true. except maybe where shifting is concerned, but that's a best-kept chicago secret. )

[lie]

[ Action, reaction: ]

Favorite color?

[ Quickfire round, apparently. She lifts her brows. Game on, Samuel. ]

[pridecroweth]

Gray. I like the potential of it.

( a gray morning can be blue by the afternoon. gray primer on a car before it's restored. he was a photographer before he was a soldier, before he was a cop. you learn to find the beauty in monochrome, in concrete, in dirty snow, in tarnished silver. )

You?

[lie]

Black.

[ Non-descript. Utilitarian. Sort of doesn't prescribe meaning to anything, really. Gray seems a lot more optimistic. ]

Favorite place?

[pridecroweth]

( the black hills. but that's a part of himself he protects. it curbs the urge to say pahá sápa.

instead: )

Hallstat. It's in Austria. Though in true hipster cred fashion, I was there before it got all touristy.

[lie]

Echern Valley.

[ She hums lightly. It's a place where things refract. Ice, glaciers. Natasha doesn't place a lot of premium on the woods, intrinsically. But sure. To breathe alone, with company. There was a time when she had to get used to that. ]

Favorite book?

[pridecroweth]

You've been?

( it's not, or wasn't, a place where people went. population under a thousand. you used to have to hike there, there weren't any roads. anything that needed to be brought to the town was ferried by boat. that's all changed now, but. the weeks he spent there were healing. he's surprised she'd know it, and yet... he's traveled the world over, and thinks she's very likely done the same. there are pieces in other people where fractures line up, sometimes. )

Oh, that's a tough one. Maybe 'Where the Red Fern Grows'.

( bittersweet endings that follow the death of the heroes. he remembers staying up all night reading under the covers with a flashlight. in hindsight, it's not the best book he's read but it's stuck with him, in the way that formative things sometimes do. )

[lie]

I've been.

[ Natasha doesn't think herself disingenuous for saying that. A world ago, and she'd liked how the cold waters and juts of rock made her feel small. More aware. More human, before Manhattan took that and ran with it all the way up to a hole in the sky.

They're all lowball questions. Might as well have lined them up with Where'd you go to college and Do you get along with your parents. His answers are all still things she recognizes, so he's from somewhere close to or identical to the Earth she knows. Progress. ]

I'm starting to regret never reading C.S Lewis. [ You know. It's genre-appropriate. ] Too much Dostoevsky, I guess.

[pridecroweth]

( only a russian would read dostoevsky for fun, and natasha comes from natalia. he cants his head to one side, considering. a kalashnikov left a constellation of bullet holes in him in a desert once. )

'The deeper the night, the brighter the stars'? I don't know, Russian lit always has that stark, utilitarian poetry to it. C.S Lewis was all Jesus analogies wrapped up in talking lions and trees.

( at least dostoevsky cleaves to the truth of a man. unapologetic, unashamed. there's something to be said for that. )

[lie]

[ She gestures at him, more with a raise of her eyebrows than the turn of her hand. ]

If we see any talking lions, I'm blaming you.

[ Companionably. Natasha settles into a beat of silence, letting her gaze drift to the crackling fire. Licks of light paint the sides of faces -- some smiling, some still tearful -- and oranges highlight planes of cheekbones, the crinkle in the corners of someone's eyes. ]

We're going to have to help these people.

[ It's sounds a lot like a declaration of intent, rather than a wavering reluctance. Even if it does come out soft -- thoughtful. Natasha's been interrogating herself, thinking over what the job is here. It can't be to hide away from any of this. ]

[pridecroweth]

( agreeably, )

You know what? If I see any talking lions, I'm blaming me.

( helping people. it's why he went to war, it's why he became a cop. it's why billie does what she does too. sam doesn't believe in a better world, but he believes you can put the labour in to build one. he crosses his legs at the ankle, one boot hooked over the other.

taking in the lay of the land is easy. adoring masses prone to fits of melodrama, it's really a one adulation fits all homebrew. but he's not a look-before-he-leaps guy, not anymore. and he isn't going to fight a war without point or purpose. )

Help can mean a lot of different things to different people. What's on your mind?

[lie]

[ Stray breezes gust up some embers, fly some ash over. A speck of white lands on her knee. She brushes it away with the back of her hand, and thinks over what Sam's asking her. Thinks over that, and considers which parts she's willing to parcel to show him.

Some, as it turns out. Maybe the Accords still have their hooks in her. For all that nostalgia pulls her backwards, that she lives her life with momentum, Natasha thinks about family.

She's been silent. When she speaks, it's a little wryly, huffing out a laugh that isn't really amused. ]

Tolstoy, if you can believe it.

[ Which is a non-answer. Natasha adds, ]

I'm wondering what these people want, and why they think it's whatever victory looks like to them. And I'm wondering if there's a baker somewhere who only cares that their daughter goes to school and doesn't think about Otherworlders at all. [ There usually is. Natasha's problems for the last few years have been precision-points. Aliens. Robots. Intelligence. There used to be a line of thinking that one person, in the right place, in the right time, could change everything. Frontline warfare's never really been her skillset. ]