medietas_ooc

Entry tags:

!test drive meme

tdm

Welcome to Medietas! Have an interest in joining the game? Maybe you have an old muse that you want to dust off? Or, maybe you're just looking for a place to voice test a brand new character and would like to do so in our little island setting among friends? Well, whatever the reason, this is where you can do that!

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, or how you even got on the boat in the first place. But as soon as the vessel docks you are greeted by some lovely locals who offer you a map and a communications device before leaving you to your own. You probably have questions and there seems to be a number of people there already who may or may not have those answers. Talk to them! Or, get on the network and introduce yourself!

2. Getting Settled: So, now that you've arrived and wandered around the starter home you've been given, it's time to check out the rest of the islands. There's a market on Aerilon that is full of treasures. Or, you can check out Chapter Six bookstore. Perhaps you wander over to the Mean Princess facility on Mulciber. There is so much to see!

3. Event: Teams are being put together to venture out deep into the islands of Eurus and Mulciber to track and destroy a vicious beast who has been the reason for the disappearances of several island locals. Please help stop the creature before anyone else goes missing!

4. Wild Card: Got something else in mind and want to create your own scenario? Go for it!

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Boredom is easily sated when one has a goal. [Repetition is a credo in human civilization, and it is nearly always one of cruelty, greed, and a seemingly unquenchable bloodlust. At his heart, Quinlan was a simple man. He was happy when left alone, when given a task to complete, when not given to loneliness, and when given an outlet for his desires. Perhaps they were not the emotions of a human, but they were his.]

Whichever you feel is simplest. It is your secret, after all.

[Freya shrugs.] True.

[A smile touched her lips and in a fluid motion she slipped her backpack off her shoulders and placed it on the ground. She then slipped out of her boots and socks, a little bit of a cocky smile on her lips.] Show it is. I think it's easier anyway.

[Freya then pulls off her shirt, she doesn't wear a bra, and then her pants and panties. She places her clothes neatly on top of her backpack and then begins to change. The process is like stretching for her. Her arms reach down in front of her and in figure changes from a woman's to a snowy white wolf. She yawns and shakes her head as the change settles and then pads a little closer to Quinlan.]

[He watches her actions with a keen gaze, observing but feeling no emotion other than curiosity at the shift. Until this moment, he'd believed, apparently in error, that werewolves were legends. If he'd not encountered them in 2000 years of life, how could they exist? And yet, here was an example, proof beyond doubt, that he'd been wrong. He crouched as she approached, still watching the fluid motion of her movements with detached interest.]

A werewolf.

[It was a statement of fact rather than a question.]

Interesting. Now, return to your human form, if you would. I lack telepathy.

[Freya scoffs at him which as a wolf sounds very much like a disgruntled puff of air. She turns, hitting him with her tail, and lightly steps back towards her backpack. The change is once again flawless, flowing like water though Freya is sitting instead of standing. She rises to her feet, stretching her arms over head and then begins to put her clothes back on. At least for a few seconds Quinlan is able to see the wide range of tattoo's Freya has marring her pale skin.]

You know, you can talk to a wolf but it's all body language.

[She's a little sad that the other wolves she's met here can't.] Also I'm technically a werehuman. I was born as a wolf.

[Freya takes a seat to slide her boots back on, her bright gaze looking up at Quinlan.] It's your turn.

Then we have something in common.

[He makes no pretense of understanding the creature she is. Until this moment, after all, he thought them to be simply a myth.]

And as I said, perhaps. To understand what I am requires a bit more information. [He stands and moves to a neighboring log to have a seat.] What do you know of vampires?

[His eyes narrow slightly as the sunlight filtering through the trees dapples his face. He doesn't have the weaknesses inherent to his father's line, but the brightness is still a problem.]

[Freya pauses, eyes him curiously and then finishes lacing up her boot. She dresses relatively quickly and as she's standing she scoops her backpack back onto her shoulder. She takes a post near him, leaning against a tree with her arms folded over her chest.]

I met one in a club. He was cute and I assume stupid fast but he didn't smell like you do. I have a feeling Vampires where I'm from are different.

[She studies him and with the added information she begins to pick up on a few small things that he does.]

They can't stand sunlight. I know that much.

[She described this one as "cute". She was most likely correct, unless this one was a master of disguise, like the Master's new lapdog. The sunlight, at least, was a common thread. He runs a gloved finger across his lips thoughtfully, deciding exactly where to begin.]

A different world. That explains much. [He looks over to her again.] Two millennia is quite a long time to travel the world and never encounter one of your kind. [It would also explain why, for the first time in his life, he didn't sense the Master's mind.]

There is a certain mysticism to vampires in mine. None save the Ancients know of their origins, but theirs is a disease that is passed through...injection. [He pauses for a moment.] Or perhaps infestation is a better word. When a human is stung by a vampire, they are infected with the blood worm. Very quickly, that worm begins to devour it's host, killing what flesh it needs not for survival, and mutating the rest for the Master's ends. Each is connected to him, serves him, and the plague continues.

[Quinlan isn't so bad looking himself except he never seems to smile. Freya's found that it's a person's smile that usually looks the most alluring.]

Yeah, there are werewolves, werebears; I could go on but I forgot the others. [She's only met a few other species and found remnants of others. Wolves were more prevalent in the states and it's what she knows best.] That sounds like a long time in general.

[Incase he wants her opinion on that particular matter.]

So it's like a zombie vampire then? [She can get behind that.] Does that mean you have these worm things? [Freya wants to see one but not touch it. It sounds really dangerous and her flight instinct is significantly stronger their her fight instinct.]

[He inclines his head in agreement.] It has been. Your world sounds diverse.

[He looks up at her assessment, hairless brows furrowed and he tilts his head to the side, considering her description. Yes, the beginning stages of the Master's siege were indeed, not unlike a zombie outbreak.] At first. As the turned mature, they become more dangerous.

[But at her question, he smirks slightly, holding up a hand.] You're jumping ahead. Have patience. [And then he folds his hands in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees.] It is said, if the Master stings a woman who is with child, that offspring will bear his form, but not his plague.

It is but not openly. You know people only see what they want to see and not what's right in front of them. [Freya smiles as if this isn't an infuriating trait of the human masses.]

Patience, right, still sounds spooky.

[She wishes she still had her apple or something to munch on. Not that this is the sort of topic that lent itself to eating but it's like story time and story time usually happens around snack time.] So no worm things.

[It's a logical leap and she can't help the mental imagine of a zombie having a baby. She's pretty sure that happened in the remake of the Living Dead or Night of the Dead. There are to many zombie movies to remember.]

Most places are not what they seem. [He looks away, then, as though looking at something far away only he can see.] And humanity is often given to believe they are correct, that theirs is the proper solution. It stems from a selfishness ingrained within them all, and yet they are capable of the most profound and limitless bounds of love. I believe it is because of this unending capacity for love that they are so selfish with most. It's dangerous to be so selflessly devoted to another. It puts you at risk. It is my belief they are so mindless to so much around them for protection, lest they care and face their doom.

[He blinks, shakes his head, and looks back to the little werewolf.] And no. You are correct. I possess the stinger, but not the worm.

[Freya listens to his voice with a quizzical expression. She knows first hand how dangerous it is to love which is why she simply chooses not to. Since making that choice she's been happy, or at least happy enough.]

That sounds about right. [She answers with a soft sigh though confusion quickly follows.]

Stinger?

[He might have left that part out.]

[He blinks, realizing suddenly a foolish mistake he's made.]

Ah. Your vampires. How do they feed?

[Freya holds up two fingers to her lips as if to emulate fangs.]

Hollywood style with sharp pointy teeth. How do you do it?

[Curiosity will be Freya's down fall.]

[He actually smirks at that. How ironic. Because of that smirk, she's able to see his own teeth, which are larger than a humans, and appear flat and sharp, jagged.]

I suppose it would be easier to show you.

[He opens his mouth wider than his humanly possible, and his tongue, which is apparently in two pieces, separates down the middle as the red swirls at his neck undulate. His tongue, both pieces of it, move outward and further separate, and a forked, tubular, barbed stinger filled the void at their middle. He doesn't extend it far, only eight inches or so before retracting it again, a motion akin to swallowing, his tongue coming back together before he licks his lips to moisten them, and then he looks to her, expecting some sort of reaction, though he has no idea what.]

[Freya isn't sure what she's expecting though she's a little happy that she received some semblance of a smile from the otherwise stoic guy.

When he opens his mouth she feels herself leaning forward, her arms falling down to her sides while bright gray eyes peered curiously at him. His teeth were cool though with the way his jaw widened she doesn't think that's what she's supposed to see. Then she watches his tongue, which really isn't a tongue at all, split and the barbed stinger that occupies its end. Her eyes widen but more out of fascination than fear.]

Whoa.

[It's hard to look away, perhaps because it's a little gross and as such has captivated her attention. She continues to stare at him until his stinger is back in his throat.]

I guess that means you don't have a gag reflex? [She means this as a serious question. It's scary but also really interesting. Freya has never seen anything like it before.]

[He tilts his head to the side once again, eyes slightly narrowed as he regards her for a moment before responding. That was not the reaction he'd expected, though which he had was anyone's guess.]

Was that meant to be a joke?

[Freya holds up her hand and quickly shakes her head.]

No, no. I was actually curious. I assume that you have your own biology to have that so I wasn't sure if it replaced breathing, eating and all that stuff. I can retract the question if you want.

My biology is that of a person or wolf. It isn't really that interesting.

[Not eating sounds like it sucks because food is delicious.]

The fact that is shifts is far more interesting than the credit you give it.

[He takes a breath, releasing it slowly as he regards the girl for a moment.] Obviously it has not replaced breathing.

[Freya shrugs but the gesture conveys confusion more than it does indifference. Her shift happens very quickly and she's never been caught part way. She knows that can shift just her fingers into the claws or other parts of her but she hates doing that so she doesn't.]

It's what I'm used to. [It's normal for her.]

Well just because you can breath doesn't mean you have to. But I get your point. So you can't get drunk or anything like that?

[Freya can't get drunk and most drugs have little effect on her but it isn't something she's ever missed.]

I can be effected by the blood I drink. [He rolls his shoulder in a shrug.] Provided the source is intoxicated at the time.

Have you ever done that? Like on purpose?

[Freya leans over while her unparalleled curiosity shines in her eyes.]

[That slight smirk of his returned, but only for a moment before he shook his head once.]

No. Never on purpose.

So you found out on accident.

[Freya doesn't bother trying to contain her smile.]

Is there a story behind that?

[He nods once before standing and pulling his hood over his head once more. His conversation with this werewolf had been reveals to say the least, but there were other places to go, as well.]

There is always a story. [Except he doesn't know this place and doesn't have his agents here to chauffeur.] You offered yourself as a guide.

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luckyescape - 2016-09-15 12:04 (UTC) - Expand

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