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!

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"It is," Sansa calls back. Something about the woman's face is comforting and familiar but Sansa cannot quite place it. Is she someone from court, perhaps? Some sympathetic face amongst the mob at King's Landing?

"It is so unlike my home, so warm and bright, but I like it all the same. It's different but no less lovely."

"This island is strange. It rises above the clouds, yet there is no chill in the air. It's warm, as you say. No long winters or summers. It's almost calm." Calmer than Westeros, at least.

"Was your home cold and dark?" She teased gently, noting her statement with amusement.

"In winter, yes. Even in summer, it was cold, but winter has come and who knows how long it will last. Years, possibly."

Sansa smiles a bit and dips her head in deference to the other woman. "I am Sansa, of House Stark. It is my pleasure to meet you."

She had seen Bran not long before and had heard that Ned had two daughters. In seeing the beautiful red head, Lyanna would never have believed she was his child. She bore features that Lyanna did not recognize, perhaps gifted by her mother. Whoever she was, she was a beauty.

"Sansa of House Stark. I am pleased to meet you. I am Lyanna, of House Stark."

"Lyanna? Lyanna, my aunt?" Sansa has so little family now and Lyanna had been thought to be dead long before Sansa was even born. Her father never spoke of her, except to say that Arya favored her, and Sansa now knows it to be true.

"I thought...but you were..."

"It would seem so, though...it strikes me as strange that I am seeing the children that Ned is destined to have. He is not yet married when last I saw him." Which had been several days before.

She had worried how he was and how he felt about her disappearance. Seeing his children raised her concerns once more. "Who is your mother?"

"Catelyn Tully," Sansa says, drawing herself up straight and regal. It's a defense mechanism, more than anything else, and with someone she doesn't know it's simply easier to draw upon being a proper lady than anything else.

"I am the only one of her children who lives."

"Catelyn Tully? She is betrothed to my brother, Brandon." It isn't her intention to dismiss the idea so easily, but before being brought here, her brother had been preparing for his wedding. It was to take place not long before she rode off with Rhaegar.

Now she hears Brandon's bride became Ned's. Why? She wasn't certain she wanted the answer.

"What happened to the rest?"

"My Uncle Brandon was killed by Mad King Aerys," Sansa says dutifully, reciting the story she's always heard.

"They went to King's Landing after the prince stole you, to ask for you back. You were stolen away from Harrenhal and raped and died. My grandfather and uncle wanted justice, so went to the king, and the king had them burned alive."

Her heart went numb, the words fading and lost against her ears. She heard Sansa, knew what was being said, but her heart would not believe it. Brandon killed. Her father burned alive. All because of her.

Lyanna lowered herself to the ground, allowing her knees to buckle and release her weight. Her hands trembled at her sides. That couldn't be the truth. It couldn't be what happened. "And Ned?" She asked, the pain so great she did not think she could listen to more. But she had to know, had to ask. She needed to hear what happened to her beloved Ned.

"Be...beheaded," Sansa says, tripping over the word. She hasn't spoke of it since it happened, since she saw her father's blood run red over the steps of the Sept of Baelor.

"For treason. Because I lied, because I wanted to be Joffrey Baratheon's queen and I wanted...because I was a stupid little bird. He died because of me."

She placed her hand on Sansa's shoulder, trying to calm her, to stop the vile words at their source. A burning rage built inside of her, hateful and vicious. It would be simple to blame the girl, as it seemed to be the only explanation provided. Ned was dead, she was the source, ergo she was to blame. Black and white, beginning and end.

But this girl was not to blame. She was a child, nothing more than that. She was no schemer, no wicked bitch. Only a girl who made a mistake, just as Lyanna had done.

"It's not your fault." Lyanna whispered, as tears gathered in her eyes. Ned, her brother, her friend. The man she idolized and adored, trusted above any other. He was killed, executed because of a damnable lie. He was no traitor! He was good and honorable! He would rather be condemned to the seven hells before allowing a man to break that honor.

"It must be mine." She said softly, wiping at her cheeks. "I am at fault for Brandon and my father's death. Had they lived...perhaps your father would have too. I do not know this King Joffery. Was he another of the mad King's sons? Did he have another?" That seemed unlikely. Rhaegar was next in line.

"House Targaryen is gone, Lyanna," Sansa says, blinking at her incredulously. Then again, how could she know? How could she know when she died so long before Sansa was even born?

What little Sansa knows of the story is what she's learned from Tyrion, who was fond of such histories and not the sort to mince his words around impressionable girls.

"Jaime Lannister killed King Aerys, let the Lannister armies in the gates at King's Landing. They call him Ser Kingslayer now. Prince Rhaegar was killed at the Trident by King Robert Baratheon, to avenge your rape and kidnapping. Princess Elia was murdered by Lannisters, her children too. Queen Rhaella fled to Dragonstone with Viserys and gave birth to a girl, Daenerys. She might still be alive."

"Gods take me, but that cannot be true!" She said, her hand gripping tighter against Sansa's shoulder. It had to be lies, did she not say before that she had lied, betraying Ned. Sentiment had convinced her that she was but a child, but no child could speak these horrible words! No one would dare claim that Rhaegar could be so easily defeated in battle! Not by Robert, no matter the rage fueling his hatred. "Why do you lie me? He is not dead! He cannot be dead!"

She released hold of her niece, turning on her heel. She wanted to strike out, to attack someone. Had Robert been before her, she would have torn out his throat. He took everything he pleased, interested in only his gratifcation! Wine, food, women! Even her brother's love! Now he took her happiness, her heart.

Thank the gods she did not live to be his wife! The stranger was a better husband than Robert would have been.

As soon as her rage was spent, exhaustion crept over her, smothering what was left of her fire. She felt weak, tired, and heart sick. Lyanna sighed, placing her face in her hands. "Rhaegar did not kidnap me. He did not rape me."

"My father wouldn't lie," Sansa says hotly. Whatever Ned Stark had been, a liar hadn't been among them and she won't let her aunt darken his name.

"He says Rhaegar stole you and raped you and hid you in Dorne," Sansa says. "And Lord Tyrion says the same. They all say that and while Lord Tyrion might lie, my lord father would never."

"And how would they know? Were they present when I was taken? I do not know Tyrion Lannister, but I know Ned and I know where he was when it happened. If Ned says otherwise then it is because Robert somehow convinced him that this was the truth!"

She had just as much temper as the little wolf, fueled more by the insult paid to Rhaegar. "I was not stolen or raped, I chose to follow him."

"Why? It's not like you could have been a queen, he was already married," Sansa says, firm in her convictions on the matter. "You would have been a mistress and you would born bastard babies. You would be stupid to think that he meant anything other than what all men want. All he wanted what was..."

Sansa lets the words die in her throat. "All men want is to put themselves into something warm and wet. I doubt that they care who it is. You were stupid to follow him."

Her blue eyes darkened with anger. Much like Arya, Lyanna didn't listen to sense or to her conscience. She knew better than to let Sansa's words provoke her, but the insult to both herself and to Rhaegar was too much for her to ignore. The stories of the future, what happened to her family, what happened to Rhaegar and to herself. All of it built up until her temper couldn't hold back any longer.

She struck Sansa swiftly and hard, her hands shaking with rage. "Don't you ever say that to me! You know nothing what happened then, only the lies that others filled your head with! But it seems the truth is not something you are on good terms with! You lied so that you could marry Robert's monstrous spawn! Why should I believe anything you say?"

She wanted to spit in disgust, she wanted to tear Sansa's hair out. Anything to silence these horrible rumors. "If you knew your history, you would know that it is possible for the Targaryens to marry more than once! Rhaegar wed me under a Weirwood tree! I am no whore but his wife! You call me otherwise and I will do the same to you as that Baratheon bastard did to my brother!"

Sansa presses her hand against her cheek for a moment before drawing herself upward, cool ice and winter steel. A lady did not stoop to such pettiness and she was a lady no matter what had happened.

"How would you know? Your family died for you and if you went willingly, you were a fool who let your heart kill everyone you loved. I did everything to get Winterfell back. I sold myself to a torturer and a rapist to make Winterfell the home of House Stark again. You ran away with a dragon."

"It doesn't matter the reasons," she said coldly, her rage finding another target, one more worthy and deserving. "The gods take everything. Whether it's because of love or fear, everything withers and dies. Winter comes and everything we cherish freezes at their whim."

She sniffed, turning her eyes to the sky. She would not cry in front of Sansa, she would not let herself be weakened by what could happen. What might come to pass. "Had I married Robert, I would have been shamed often and subjected to his pleasures. I am sorry for what happened to you, as I am sorry for those that lost their lives for my decision. But I do not regret it."

"Winter is coming," Sansa says darkly. "For all the good it does us to have those words or the direwolf as our sigil."

No matter what, Lyanna is a Stark and that made her family. Sansa can't be angry with her forever. And, she supposes it is true that she's rather like Arya. She softens just a touch.

"I suddenly understand why they said my sister was like you. I didn't believe it, since you were said to be a beauty, but I see it now. You're just as stubborn as Arya is."

She relaxed her stance and features, her temper cooling as she listened to Sansa. A hesitant smile appeared on her lips, sad, but warmer than what she displayed before. They were both Starks, family. She may not know Sansa or have been present for her life, but they were together on this island. Who could say how long they would be there?

It did neither of them any good if they spent their time squabbling.

"I was not always beautiful. I imagine it must have been different for you. Stubbornness comes naturally when you are surrounded by nothing but boys. I had to learn to fight back or my brothers would have taken everything." She shook her head, "You must be like your mother. I never met Catelyn, but I heard she was lovely and had red hair."

"I have her look," Sansa confirms. "Most think me my mother made over. There is little of House Stark in me. I'm all Tully. So was Robb."

Her heart sinks to think of Robb, of Bran, of Rickon. So much of her family is gone now just because of a few stupid mistakes.

"Arya has the look of House Stark, just like my bastard brother Jon."

"You have the temper of a wolf. I can't imagine a Tully biting back the way you do." Despite Sansa's claim, Lyanna would not relinquish the Stark blood in the girl. She needed her niece, she needed a piece of her brother at her side.

That earned a look of amazement. "A bastard? Ned had a bastard? No. That can't be true. He had to persuade Brandon to ask a woman to dance with him, he was too afraid to ask himself. I can't imagine him taking a woman to bed who was not his wife."

"He brought Jon back to Winterfell after the war. My lady mother had already had my brother Robb. They are but a few moons apart."

Sansa frowns a bit, working it out. "It doesn't make sense, I know. Father loved Mother more than anything. Nobody knows who Jon's mother is. Nobody would ever say."

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