TDM!

[medietas_mods]

T E S T D R I V E M E M E
Welcome to Medietas! Are you interested in joining the game? Have an old muse you want to dust off, or voice test a brand new one in our game setting? Then you've come to the right place!

You all know what to do but if you don’t, just follow the instructions and HAVE FUN!

How To Play:

→ Comment with the character you’d like to test drive. Don’t forget to add their name and canon in the subject line.
→ Choose a scenario, or start your own!
→ Tag around!


Possible Scenarios:

1. New Arrival: You've just arrived on the island of Medietas, in the city of Aerilon via a floating boat, with people you may or may not know. Of course, you can't help wondering what the heck is going on here, or how you even got on the boat, but the vessel seems to be approaching a harbor with what appears to be.. are those floating islands? They sure are! And as if that isn't mind boggling enough, no one seems to have answers. But you are greeted by some lovely locals who offer you a map and a communications device and send you on your way. Perhaps the questions can wait for now. There's a new place to explore!

2. Go Exploring!: There's plenty of places to see, be it in your designated housing area, or on one of the adjoining community islands! Visit the market on Aerilon. Hike the mountains in Eurus. Sit on the beaches of Imber with a cocktail. Adventure in the forests of Mundus. Be careful though! Every area has it's dangers.

3. Party, party!: On the evening of your first night in the city, a party is being thrown on Aerilon in honor of your arrival. Eat, mingle, dance, meet the other new arrivals! The locals put on quite the celebration!

4. Wild Card! Customize your own scenario to fit your needs!

Comments

Re: castiel (supernatural) / ota

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo loves to avoid Arrival Days. At this point, it's fuckall reason not to even work and deal with the ones who find a bar for a drink.

She couldn't have avoided working for a week or two at The Flaggon, but now that The RoadHouse is almost open, and she's got her own staff to handle those things. Somehow. She really could just sequester herself away and avoid the whole, predictable, thing. New faces. More of them. Who will inevitably tell her the same thing they have every time they've arrived.

The problem with that? Locking herself in any of the higher or lower floors of The Roadhouse is just stifling.

Which means going out, and leaving her comm device behind, once she thinks it's late enough the boats will be gone and the people dispersed to their starter houses, having asked all their questions and mostly being out of her way. How there are people partying on these nights is beyond her. Or not. She gets it. Some of them get lucky. She still ends up wandering in, even though it's probably the worst of the options, and even showing up on Allison's porch for the first time would be smarter.





But. At least there's free food, right?

[dirtytrenchcoat]

Why he's here when he has no interest in actually socializing isn't something Castiel has spent very much time trying to evaluate. The bright lights and the loud music keeps his mind off of what little information he's gathered about Medietas. Enough, that at least he can rest. He might not need it necessarily, not the way someone else would, but given the course of the past several months, he's taking the brief moment to himself with no guilt.

Seeing people move to the rhythm reminds him only vaguely of Hannah, and he wonders how she might be doing. Heaven was still in a state of disrepair, a broken thing compared to what it had originated as. He knew he was responsible for reducing it to that.

When the song slows Castiel pulls his leg forward toward the couch, preparing himself for a long walk back to the rooms. In the process, he trips someone making their way through toward the bar and food behind him and away from the crowd. His immediate reaction is to reach out and try to steady them.

[tobeclosetohim]

Running smack into a wall of person shouldn't be that surprising at a party, but it still pisses her off. Which is almost nice, which is perfect, honestly, that caustic, biting, bitter rush of burning heat that floods her chest at being weigh laid, twisted into something to throw all her anger at the day at finally, who isn't someone she'll have to apologize to in the morning, as she's pushing her hands out to shove that person, "Seriously? Can't you watch where you're--"

But the words die, at the same time as she looks up while her hands hit a trenchcoat and it feels like she gets punched instead.

Air evaporating faster than anger can, even while surprise and shock detonates across all of it suddenly. "Cas?"

[dirtytrenchcoat]

His immediate response to seeing the strands of her blonde hair and the familiar hand grasp his coat is to steady himself and her in the process. It's alarming to see her, especially knowing she should be dead. A product of hellhounds and a casualty of a war that she should have never been involved in.

At first, he parts his lips wordlessly, more taken aback than shocked because she was truly the last person he expected to see. Castiel had been trying to come to terms with the fact that he was alone in this place.

"It's me." As far as he was aware the doubt and disbelief were a normal thing here. So many people were confused about their arrival. At least those that stepped off the ship with him. "Are you okay?"

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo's hands come off that far too familiar coat as fast as they'd originally gone out to push him, before him was Castiel, and her teeth felt as decked as her stomach. Even for being one of the angels she found emotions to be more foreign to, the look of surprise, shock, confusion, registers too loudly. Even without sound, and drowned in the merry making of dozens and dozens of people around them.

"I'm fine." Her own surprise spurs too quickly toward sharpness, and she wants to look to his sides for Dean. Even though she hasn't seen Dean in only a few weeks, and it'd been years since she'd seen Castiel anywhere near him. Years. Long ones. Back three places, to the bar, where Dean wouldn't have been the person she was looking to find hanging about his edges. "What are you doing here?"

Beat. No. Because that one doesn't matter. Even if it's baffling. "Does Sam even know you're here?"

Or Gabriel, or Balthazar? Maybe he'd come in hours ago, and they'd all left her alone. Finally learning that lesson.

[dirtytrenchcoat]

"I'm trying to figure that out." It's not a very god response but it all he can say honestly right now. This place has been overwhelming for him and adjusting to it has left him with very little as far as the capacity to truly research goes. Most of what he's seen and studied has been filed away to scrutinize later. "Sam's here too? Jo, how did this even happen?"

[tobeclosetohim]

"Multiverse fuckery?" Jo offers it like a question, but it's entirely rhetorical. An answer in itself, and only a juxtaposition on one of her favorite curses. The one she's had since Milliways. At least the one she ends up with never being able to let go of, even if it's not one of the ones that happens to fall out of her mouth with alarming repetition in normal situation. Just thinking of the multiverse as normal made her want to say it.

"Yeah." A second later, keeping the careful space between them and looking him over in the half-shadows of the party. "Yeah, Sam's back at the house."

Then, because she's been too many places, and she's already had to field this conversation more than once since Sam nearly collapsed on that bridge on her first day. There's a nod, head tipped with her chin barely angled to one side, making the question all business (and just a little wary defensiveness). "When are you from?"

[dirtytrenchcoat]

"It's 2015." So he already knows what happened to her and the rest, as well as what he's capable of. Castiel has spent a long time trying to atone for his misdoings, and the weary look on his face gives away the fact that he's facing yet another trial at home. Something he'd been in the midst of recuperating from.

[tobeclosetohim]

"Yeah. Well. Sam isn't." And neither is she. "Sam's from the shit side of 2009, maybe 2010. Time is weird."

Which is an understatement, because she isn't from 2015, but Jo, also, isn't from 2009, or 2010 or anytime earlier. She's years, more than half a decade of them, give or take the multiverse-fuckery of time being weird, past where she was at twenty-four, when she last saw Castiel, in her world and in Milliways, and she's well aware that every single person she's bumped into from home since then hasn't expected that.

Has said the same god damn thing she hates having to hear again, and correct again.

Because she's not dead. Because she never died. Because this right here is why she avoided the fucking boats to begin with.

[dirtytrenchcoat]

The firm response is obviously built on some sort of knowledge, but Castiel doesn't think it's the right time to ask for an explanation. He just nods, eyebrows knit at the fact that Sam is from so long ago when things were truly awful for him and Dean both.

"How is he doing?" After spending time with Jo and her mother he learned not to ask them about themselves when they were presenting information like this. Jo was clearly unnerved and he didn't want to make it worse.

[tobeclosetohim]

He's not the first one to ask the question, and Jo's been protective and specific on how she answered that and to whom, since she knows exactly how often he still wakes up screaming. Whether he's eating, or not, and when. When he's busy and here, and when he's quiet and in the room, but somewhere far away.

She couches it a lot or a little depending on who they are. Even Amy.

She hadn't with Bobby. But that was Bobby. He was family on both side of the line.

And this was Castiel. Angel, but, also, sort of one of them.

"Not as bad as the first week, but still not great."

[dirtytrenchcoat]

Castiel has adopted Dean's technique of taking responsibility for things that aren't really his fault. There's a slow nod when she mentions how Sam's doing, and it's not surprising. That was a time that was terrible for all of them, but especially him.

"It's good he's here and that he has support." The fact that he's distancing himself emotionally has more to do with the environment and not knowing what to make of it. "Can I buy you a drink?" Nothing flirtatious, not even remotely. Just an exchange of alcohol for her company something that he hadn't participated in for a while. Least of all with her.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo saddles him with a look. Like somehow she hadn't been about to go get one. Or maybe that agreeing meant agreeing to stay. To talk to him. To give into this being what it was. A breath blew out her nose, and she nodded, a little less than straight and certain, "Yeah. Sure."

Because, what else was she going to do, really? Walk off on him and leave him there? Middle of this party and this place? Go home, close the doors and wait to see who was the first person to show up and trying to tell her off for walking off on him? It's not like it was a thing she would do anyway.