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

The Splendid Angharad | Mad Max Fury Road | 4

[these_are_my_words]

The Splendid Angharad's arrival had been dramatic. She'd been in a state, dirty and bleeding, body shaking and the baby sending lashings of pain all over her belly.

Now, she's better.

All clean and shiny, with new clothes - not white cloth she has to knot herself, but actual clothes - and boots. Clean skin, clean hair, a clean bandage on the bullet-graze on her calf. The baby's settled down in her belly, even. It's better.

Except...

Except now she's sitting at a place called a kafay near the clinic she'd been taken, staring out over the markets in perfect incredulity.

There's colour, so much colour, and everyone's clean, shiny and full-life. Well-fed, too. Soft with contentment, not snarling hard with desperation. She's been given a whole jug of clean water, with a side of chicken (chook, isn't it) and some salad to eat, except she can't stop staring.

The last thing she remembers before waking up on that flying boat had been falling off the War Rig. She should have died. But now, she's here.

Wherever here is.





[ooc: notes for the canon-blind! The Splendid Angharad is heavily pregnant, and she has cross-hatched razor scars on her right forehead and right cheek]

[hummerdoc]

That was going on his Hall of Fame list of most dramatic entrances to this place yet. Pregnant woman, nearly due, and with injuries both fresh and old? Those few hours getting her stabilised and the contractions stopped went on Ratchet's list of Exciting Times in the ER.

But that was then and this was now, and he wasn't necessarily looking for her, more like taking the opportunity whenever it appeared. She wasn't Carly, he knew that, not with those marks, and the brand, and she didn't have the right accent, either. But still. She was here, with a baby due soon and didn't know a soul here. Fragging youngling protocols, still active after all these years.

He slid into a seat at a table near to Angharad's and cleared his throat.

"Angharad?"

[these_are_my_words]

The doctor. Not the Organic Mechanic, not the medicine man of her girlhood, but the doctor here. Kind hands instead of not uncaring. Kind eyes. Anger bubbling somewhere righteous and deep.

"Hello," she says, and pours him a glass of precious, precious water like the rules of hospitality still exist.

That's all she says, though. The next move is his.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo hasn't been to this one before. The place. She's been making her rounds through the islands. Which had been going well enough, until she actually got side tracked into a project that's now going to take over everything, it seems. But lunch still has to happen, and Sam's home sleeping, which whenever he can get Jo is glad to give him the space for.

The cafe looks simple enough and she wanders up and over, at least hoping for a glance across the sitting people, to see what it might be offering, before heading in to get herself some food.

[these_are_my_words]

It's good, this tucker. She's not been starving for years, but she has to hold herself back from gulping it down just from the taste. The juicy meat. The leafy greens which are different.

But she's gotta eat slow. Careful. Doesn't want to waste it, doesn't want to feel sick. It gives her time to look around, and stare.

Watch.

Like the woman who walks in now, small like Toast but hair as yellow as hers. Leather jacket, confident without a swagger. All glowing full-life, from the look of her.

Unaccountably, she feels shy. Then Splendid draws herself up, gives the woman a small smile as her gaze meets hers.

She's got no reason to falter now. So she refuses to.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo's feeling relaxed enough today that she's not avoiding the people, otherwise she'd still be at home, with groceries and her journal making plans and lists and not her. But sometimes she needs out, as much as Sam's sleep needs space, and she gives the girl who smiles at her a smile back. Reaching up to ruffle her hair back from the wind tugging it in her face, while she says, "Hey. I don't think I've found this corner before. How's this place?"

[these_are_my_words]

"It seems...nice," she offers, cautiously. Less caution about the woman she's talking to, more caution about making a judgement call on not a lot of experience.

"Can't speak 'bout the prices, mind," she adds. "We don't really have money where I'm from."

She's read about money, though. In the books that survived Australia's collapse.

[tobeclosetohim]

It is careful. Uncertain, but not, and what Jo really wonders isn't whether the reaction means she's over-stepping, but more if the girl is really new. Really new just kept happening all the time around here, and when she goes on to that part about money it's rather cinched. Jo made a face, wrinkling her nose.

"That's gotta be a learning curve. Barter system or something?"

[these_are_my_words]

"Barter, exchange," she agrees and clarifies at the same time. Barter is low-level, exchange is high. Six bullets for a bottle of water, a wife of breeding age and good stock for three trucks.

"But I've read about money. A symbolic exchange, yeah?

I just don't know the going rates, yet."

[tobeclosetohim]

"I just came from a place like that, too," Jo nodded.

The Apocalypse had money, at least the really, really big safe house cities did, but you could get nearly anything there, in any place, city or dessert, with a basket of food. Especially fresh fruits and vegetables that couldn't be found almost anywhere regularly now, and people, especially the just flash-banged in variety, would have sold off everything but children for a directions to a safe city.

"It's different, but you'll probably pick it up pretty quickly." Survival was like that. You learned or you died. Very quickly.

And Jo thought there was something about the woman's dark eyes, and carefully chosen words, that didn't say a fast death.

[these_are_my_words]

"I can do maths," she agrees. All kinds of maths, which she suspects this woman understands.

"What... What do you do here, to earn the money?"

She'd been told not to worry about it just yet, but if she has a safety net, she needs to use it to plan.

[just_be_quiet]

Andrew had calmed down over his little sullen temper tantrum. He didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Adults made him see reason. Yes he is far from home again but it's different.

This time maybe he won't have to be alone. The school seems okay. The streets are open and warm looking with their bright colors. He has to stop to unbutton his collar. The sun is intense to him.

The cafe catches his attention and he wanders in hungry and warm. He is staring at the menu up at the wall when he starts to shuffle uncomfortably. There's too many grown ups.

His gaze wanders and then he blinks. Angharad reminds him of someone. If it weren't for the scars and the baby he can sort of feel settled in her belly as well as see Andrew would wonder if maybe he had gone crazy. Crazy is always possible.

He just gives a shy smile and ducks his head. He is still hungry but feels unsure. Like a little kid. But he sort of is.

[these_are_my_words]

In the Citadel, boy-children are taken from their breeder-mothers early and turned into War Pups. Head shaved, white ochre applied, living in groups and shedding their baby names for others. Down below, among the Wretched, some are chosen to be War Boys, and others aren't. They might keep their hair, but they are even more half-life than everyone else. Quarter-life. Desperate.

This boy isn't.

He's...

Healthy. Clothed. Brown-haired.

He's the first boy she's ever seen like that and she doesn't know how to react. Smile, she guesses. Do anything to keep him that way.

She settles for a smile.

"Hello."

[just_be_quiet]

Andrew may never get to see his mother again. She's sick. Something broke in her and it might never get fixed. Never mind his father. Never mind the bitter hate that has settled in Andrew's chest for fathers.

Fathers are jerks.

"Hi." He reaches trying to brush some slightly damp hair off his forehead. He had been acting like a kid for once. He isn't filthy but he is sweaty.

She doesn't scare him or spook him like some of the others. "You're new here too. Right?"

He is curious. Bright eyed but with a slightly serious set to his jaw. Boys shouldn't have to be serious but Splendid might not know that. It might just be an idea.

[these_are_my_words]

"Yeah, I am. Got here maybe five, six hours ago."

And spent nearly all of that time in the clinic. But at least she's clean now, at least she's got stitches and her baby's decided not to come out just now. Had enough to drink so her head's stopped throbbing and she can swallow without wincing.

"Haven't seen much of it. It looked like it was floating, from what I remember."

She pauses, and then offers a little joking smile.

"Can ya tell me if that's right? Or was I hallucinating?"

[just_be_quiet]

"I arrived yesterday." He still isn't happy. But he is not going to throw another fit. He knows by now his last kidnapper probably isn't behind this.

Probably. If Q is this is really weird, okay?

"You weren't. There's... five of them? But they have bridges connecting them." He licks his lower lip thoughtfully.

"I asked what's below. They don't want to say. I think they think I'm too young which is true, I guess." He isn't willing to admit it could be he was sort of a growling brat yesterday. He misses his Aunt and Uncle terribly right now.

[these_are_my_words]

"Could be insider-talk," she muses, thoughtfully. "Like, they can't tell us because we're not insiders. Or something no one talks about. That happens."

Then, awkwardly,

"'Least where I'm from, it does."

[just_be_quiet]

"I heard that happens. I just haven't seen it before," Andrew admits. Well until now at least. This is annoying but he can't do anything about it.

He glances at her scars. Those aren't normal scars. Even a boy knows that but maybe he shouldn't ask. Instead he looks back at her eyes.

"But then I guess I wouldn't notice if it happened back home. I'm only nine."

[these_are_my_words]

"And I'm a woman. I get...excluded from a lot of things," Angharad says, in the tone of one bestowing a confidence.

She sees him looking at her scars, and the thought occurs to her that now she's out from Joe's vault, now she's in a different city where islands float and people are soft and content, people might ask about them.

And she has no idea what she'll say.

But the little boy doesn't, and she's grateful for that.

"What's your name? I'm the Splendid Angharad."

[just_be_quiet]

"Andrew McKee. Andrew is my first name," he goes on knowing that perhaps last names aren't a thing where she is from.

She seems sort of normal to him. There is so much strength in her. Something made her have to learn to have a will like iron. Andrew really doesn't want to know. He has enough reasons to be super angry at certain sectors of his own gender.

Needless to say, he hopes to be nothing like his father.

"I guess I'm used to home still. My Aunt always knew everything important.... My Uncle had no problem sharing everything he was allowed to."

[these_are_my_words]

Her mother had had a surname. She'd whispered it to Angharad, because that's all they could keep. A whisper.

She doesn't say it now.

"You can use either of my names, if you want," she offers. Then she smiles. "Your aunt sounds like a very wise woman."

It's not a patronizing told, as an adult woman to a child, but the confidence of one lost to another.

Grandmothers, mothers, aunts. Women who'd survived. They'd have to know things.

"But, here, Andrew. Did, would you sit with me?"