medietas_ooc

Entry tags:

!test drive meme

TDM!

T E S T D R I V E M E M E

Welcome to Medietas and our first ever Test Drive Meme! As we approach the grand opening of the game on April 1st, we thought we’d kick things off with a little something that will get you all interacting in the new setting! And it’s one less sample you have to worry about on your application if you’re considering our little game here.

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? You can’t help but ponder what’s going on here, but the vessel seems to be approaching a harbor and when it docks, some lovely locals are standing in wait to greet you. After that they hand you a map and communications device and invite you to find your accommodations and explore.

2. 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!

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

4. The Bells Are Ringing!: And that means a islands wide warning that something dangerous is approaching! But where the heck are they coming from? Nevermind that, the caretakers rally the children and the senior citizens while Scykal, Imber's local sea monster, emerges from the large body of water on the island. Interesting. He hasn't been spotted in a long time. Help the locals defeat him!

5. Wild Card!: Choose your own scenario!

N A V I G A T I O N

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Alric smiles a touch more, himself, at seeing hers, even if her words hint further at the sorrow he already suspects. But, no need to pry. He chuckles, relaxing against the trunk of the tree, and raises his eyebrows at her question.

"...well, a varied tale, if I'm to confess the truth, Lady Stark. I had tutors, of course, and I've traveled and met musicians far more talented, but had also the good fortune to count among my friends the families of the staff on my family's estate. I learned at least as much from them--even if many of those lessons would not be entirely appreciated at Court."

He figures he doesn't need to explain that, not if her family's referred to as a House. Surely, she knows people who would turn their nose up at anything done by a commoner; and really, for all he knows, she might, but he'd rather assume the best, all else being equal.

"But, as my grandfather would say, there's something to be learned from everyone."

"Perhaps there is. There are things I certainly should have learned from the smallfolk," Sansa says, smiling just a bit. It's been a long time since she's talked with someone gracious and sweet and highborn.

"And things I should continue to learn."

Alric raises an eyebrow at that term, although it's not hard to tell what she means by it, and nods, understandingly. At least, in the abstract.

"Mm... if the question's not too invasive, was there something in particular you hand in mind to learn?"

He pauses just a moment before raising a hand.

"...ah, a moment. Forgive my manners, Lady Stark, I don't mean to make you strain your neck so."

He flashes a contrite smile and casually hops off the branch he'd been settled on, dropping a good distance to the ground. Landing lightly, far enough from her not to give her reason to be alarmed, he stands, calmly dusting himself off and stowing away his flute.

"I have been told I have quite a long neck," Sansa says, laughing lightly. She smooths down her skirt and thinks about his question, trying to decide what she wanted to learn. She knew most everything about being a lady, some about dissembling and listening to what wasn't said with a person's words but...

"I wish I knew how to use a sword. I know it isn't proper for a lady to ask such a thing and, yet, I cannot see where it would not be useful."

Alric chuckles lightly at her trite retort, stopping himself short of complimenting her on that neck, although he glances briefly, as though she'd prompted him; he instead raises his eyebrows at that unexpected answer to his question. He doesn't appear to be troubled, at least, by it; to the contrary, if anything, he seems rather intrigued, particularly when she admits herself how unusual it sounds. It would have been rather peculiar in his homeland, as well, but he had always been relatively comfortable with the peculiar.

"...indeed...? Well. I don't wish to presume, of course, but as it happens, I did serve for a short time as an assistant instructor at my grandfather's fencing school. It would surely be an honor, if I could provide any service, in that respect. ...as to propriety, I can think of nothing more proper than making every reasonable effort to ensure the lady's safety and security."

"I was told, as a girl, that my lord husband would always see to my safety. Sometimes one has to fear the lord husband and not others outside the marriage," Sansa says wryly.

"It is for this reason that I should want to learn to wield a sword or a dagger, that I might be able to protect myself should the occasion present itself."

Alric pauses a moment at that. Of course, she's not wrong. He knows as well as anyone how brutish certain of the nobility (perhaps less deserving of that term) can be, and it's no great stretch of the imagination to fathom how much worse the wife's position in such circumstances could be. Even so, he smiles politely--it is, after all, a matter of courtesy to sustain a pleasant demeanor, and she clearly doesn't have any need of his outrage--but his attitude does grow a touch more pensive.

"...mm. Well. A good husband certainly should do as you were told... ...but, ah... a dagger, or another knife, is certainly more... subtle than a sword. Although not all situations call for subtlety, as I've no doubt you perceive, yourself."

Sansa nods in agreement. "Subtle is best, I'm afraid. I am not experienced in the martial arts and I am afraid I will be terrible at them. It's not the same as dancing, or so I've come to understand."

She pauses for a moment. "But I would like, very much, to know how to protect myself."

"Well, the offer stands, of course, Lady Stark. ...and... while there are some shared features, no, not entirely the same as dancing."

He smiles a little more, regaining a hint of that former courtly playfulness.

"Unless you happen to be thinking about a particularly aggressive dance, in which case I should be most intrigued to learn more about it--for the sake of curiosity, at the very least."

Sansa laughs. "You may call me Sansa, should you desire. Lady Stark sounds entirely too much like my mother."

It is painful to hear it, in a way, but also silly. She is Lady Stark for true now, yes, but she wants, very much, to simply be Sansa.

Alric's smile, although still politely restrained, brightens at that laugh.

"..ah.. a most flattering invitation. Lady Sansa, then, if you wish."

He was perfectly happy to call her by her name if she so wished, but he wasn't about to abandon his manners entirely, and offered a courtly bow. It was more than worth overplaying the role a bit, so long as she was enjoying it; in truth, she rather seemed like she could do with some enjoyment.

Sansa smiles and it seems she still knows how to do that even after all this time. Perhaps it is only a matter of being shown some courtesy, of the sun peeking out from behind a cloud, to allow her to feel something once again.

"Simply Sansa will suffice, I assure you. We are of equal status, are we not? Or...I daresay you may need an honorific more than I do, my lord."

Truly, it's a bit of a challenge to keep up the appropriate cool restraint, when she smiles so, although he does keep his reaction mostly to a certain warmth in his bright, amber eyes, smiling in return.

"...whatever titles I may hold are surely of no great importance, here, Lady Sansa... certainly not enough to warrant that I should address you with such unearned familiarity, I should think."

Of course, it's not hard to tell he's flattered by the suggestion, particularly as he really makes no secret of it. Still, he's quite determined not to show her any manner of disrespect, whatever the temptation.

Sansa laughs softly. "All the same, I don't mind if we dispense with the formality. I may be a lady but I am a secure enough lady to not need the title even if it is lovingly given."

Observant as she is, she can likely tell that he's just a bit flustered at her persistence on the subject. Not bothered, and he maintains his outward composure quite well, but for all his stubbornness, she certainly has an effect on him.

"...then... you doubly flatter me, Lady Sansa, offering such familiarity, and feeling so secure in my company. And yet, I would be ashamed to pay you any less honor than your due."

He pauses, just a moment, a bit pensive. It could well be she wants to avoid her station and title, but prefers not to say so explicitly. He's naturally wary of taking such liberties--both as a matter of propriety, and a first line of self-restraint--but he isn't about to prioritize his own comfort above hers, after all. Worst case, he'll simply have to be that much more on guard against her charms.

He continues, smiling courteously, as always, with a touch more solicitude.

"......however... nor do I wish to make you uncomfortable. ...if you insist, then, of course, I will call you as you wish--so long as you will remember that I mean only to show you the greatest respect."

"I would think nothing less," Sansa assures him. It has been a long time since someone has spoken to her gently as befits her station and not followed it with a betrayal of sorts. She is wary, yes, but Sansa does not outwardly distrust. It is likely he means as he says, as rare as that is for her.

"How did you ever manage to wander away this far, if I may ask?"

Alric raises an eyebrow at that question, just a bit puzzled, although he remains just as courteous.

"Hm..? Far from... ah, from the city, you mean?"

He glances toward Aerilon indicatively as he asks, then back to her once again.

"From the city, yes. I was looking for a godswood," Sansa says, nodding toward the trees. "Though these trees are lovely, none of them are the sort I would need to pray."

Once, Sansa had fancied herself a follower of the Seven, had prayed in the sept her mother had built at Winterfell when she came north. Now, though, if she believes in any gods at all they are the old gods of the north.

He seems intrigued at her explanation, although he holds off in order to answer her question, smiling to himself.

"I see... nothing so spiritual, I confess, on my part. My family's estate is in.. a heavily forested region. Thanneswane, in the Southern Reaches of the Kaithenian Empire, for what it's worth."

Alric smiles a little more, slightly amused at himself, well aware the names would almost certainly mean nothing to her.

"I grew up there--mostly, at any rate. I suppose I've always found the forest... comforting, in a way, even if this one isn't exactly familiar. ...I'm afraid I must admit I'm not familiar with the 'godswood,' however."

"I'm from Westeros, from Winterfell," Sansa explains. "Weirwoods are how the old gods speak to those of us here and I don't quite know how I would pray without one. I was just hoping, by chance, that there might be one here."

There is not, as this place is nothing like her home, but she had hoped.

"This forest is lovely all the same."

"Mm... my loss, I'm sure, that I'm not acquainted with your homeland."

...of course, he was mostly just being polite, since he obviously couldn't really be sure of any such thing. Although he did take quite seriously the idea of learning from everyone--even if it should be quite an unpleasant lesson ~~or just "don't go to Westeros"~~.

"But, yes, it is a lovely forest. ...although I've heard it said to have its own dangers. I confess I've not had occasion to go exploring much deeper than this, myself, however."

Sansa narrows her eyes, assessing the woods. She has never really felt unsafe in forests but she is, admittedly, unfamiliar with this one.

"You don't suppose it's dangerous, do you? It doesn't seem that way to me."

Alric raises his eyebrows slightly at that look, but smiles to himself all the same, glancing aside to follow her eyes momentarily.

"I'm afraid I can't say from experience. And I'm not certain what manner of danger was meant. It could merely be that there are berries one oughtn't eat... but I wouldn't want to encourage a false sense of security. Not in a place as yet so unfamiliar."

He turns his eyes back to her, pausing a moment, and then tilts his head in a hint of a bow.

"...nor would I wish to make you uncomfortable, of course. If it would help, I'd be honored to serve as your escort, if you wish, Lady Sansa. At least until we know better what to expect, here."

"I hope that I don't need an escort and merely can enjoy one," Sansa says, smiling softly.

"And I would like to enjoy your company."

Alric nods understandingly, and seeming quite pleased with that reply, himself, even if he resists making a grand display about it.

"...then, consider me at your disposal. And yes, my hopes, of course, are quite the same."

He pauses just a moment, taking on a somewhat playful tone.

"I'll try sincerely not to be a dull bodyguard. Now, I believe you were walking before I interrupted you? I'll gladly walk with you, if you like."

Referring of course (mostly facetiously) to his flute playing that drew her away from wherever she was wandering as "interrupting" her.

TDM!

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