thetube | Test Drive Meme: August 2015

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Welcome to the Underground test drive meme! This is where you can try out the AU version of your character, start some potential CR and get a feel for the world of the game. Choose your character's species, read up on the available factions and you're ready to go. Put your character's name in your subject line when you post, tag out, and have fun!

Note to current players: Activity in this meme counts as game canon! So you can use it for activity check. If you end up playing anything that you can't or don't want to use as game canon, it's fine to ignore it. (In that case you shouldn't submit it for activity check.)

For prospective players: Thinking about bringing a character to the game? Feel free to comment to our Potential CR Planning meme for OOC planning and discussion.

Here are some prompts to inspire you:

1) BABY COME BACK. Is there someone you miss? Maybe you've come to visit for the first time in months. Maybe you'll even stay.

2) FULL MOON. (29th August) Uh oh, it's that time of the month. Werewolves, have you been feeling more aggressive lately? A little short of temper? Better start preparing for your monthly transformation and hope that you don't get interrupted. And then there's the morning after, which feels like a massive hangover. Wait, where are your clothes?

3) CARNIVAL. (30th-31st August) It's the August bank holiday weekend and that can only mean one thing: the Notting Hill Carnival! With the sun high in the sky, enjoy the parade, the music and of course the food. Jerk chicken, anyone?

4) SPECIAL EFFECTS. There's nothing like a touch of subtle magic to add to the occasion. Dress up and show off. Mind you, there could be other supernatural types around who see straight through your tricks.

5) PARTY ALL NIGHT. It's not over when the sun goes down. Get yourself to one of the bars or after-parties and keep on partying. Just don't drink too much. You know it makes it harder to control your powers... and your urges.

6) BRAWL. The police work hard to keep London's gangs away from Carnival. When you have supernatural gangs to contend with, their job gets a whole lot harder. Drunk and disorderly or simply looking for an excuse to cause trouble, encounters between rival factions can soon become hostile. Now are you here to cause a fight or to stop it?

7) NIGHT IN JAIL. Oops. What did you do? And who's that with you?

8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. Anything goes.

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[Skip takes it with a smile. The more she can act like everything's fine and normal? The better that makes this. It's what she'd want someone to do for her, after all. And it could just as easily be her sitting in Elizabeth's place.

Or. Well. Could be if she wasn't as careful as she was.]

Here. Number's in. Feel free t' ring me.

Don' go out on week days. Got class. But hit me on the weekend? I'll take y' all over. I know jus' 'bout all the bartenders in all th' clubs.

[Elizabeth takes her phone back and looks at the entry.] Skip. [She reads, with a satisfied smile.] Oh I probably won't be out on weekdays either. I have class and studying-- but weekends, those are all mine. I can... I can go wherever I want.

[The realization gives her a thrill she hasn't felt all night. Elizabeth reaches out to take Skip's hand, suddenly excited.] Let's go the first weekend you're free, I want to see everything!

Childermass is no stranger to the feel of magic, and as such it is not only the look of the charm itself, but the spell put upon it that catches his attention. He watches the other man with the phone, casually assessing, not particularly caring whether he's being obvious about it or not, before speaking up after the other man's done texting.

"That's an interesting charm you've got there," he says, with a pointed look. He knows what it is, and while he's not certain of the magic exactly, he'd be curious to find out.

"Thank you," Waver says, not missing that look at all. "I've found that when I have it attached to my mobile, my service is far better."

A neat explanation, all while dancing around the subject. Waver is about to elaborate when he gets a text back, and as he types another response, he continues. "The charm was just a gift from a friend who thought it'd be funny."

Childermass is perhaps impressed if anything by the levels of evasion that the other man is practicing. But it is doing him no favors, not in front of him at least. There is no point in hiding such things from a man who is the direct assistant of one of the most powerful witches in the city, no matter what his proclivities.

Childermass nods slightly, taking the opportunity to glance around and make certain that they will not be overheard, before continuing. "Perhaps the gift was from a friend. But I've a mind to believe that the magic upon it is yours, sir," he drawls, mildly.

"You're right enough," Waver says with an elegant shrug. He's never been one for politics of London's supernatural side - he fights with the university administration and inter-department matters enough to simply not want to add more to his load. Funny that he keeps his nose out of trouble on matters of magic when he's all but a thorn in the side when it comes to academia.

"But then, I really only use things for practical matters."

Just like that, she's seated across from him again, and eating cake. Faolan pulls his coffee closer to him, clutching it tight for a few moments before taking a big swig. He's got a feeling that he's going to need another, although he's wishing he had a little something extra to be putting in it as well.

"Faolan," he answers, eyeing her warily. Siobhan, that's an Irish name. Is the girl Irish? Faolan himself is, hailed from a little town outside of Belfast, although he hasn't been back there in oh, nearly ten years now. Although the accent's still stuck. Out of stubbornness more than anything else, no doubt.

[Skip can't help but laugh a little. Still, she nods.]

You ring me. Ain' much on my to-do list but clubbin'.

First weekend, you an' me'll do all the tourist shit, yeah? Get it outta the way an' all.

Then? I'll start teachin' y' the local stuff.

"It's nice to meet you, Faolan."

Not Irish, no. Scottish, though her accent is pretty far from the thick end of the scale. Still very much there though, just like his own.

"I startled you, didn't I?"

She grimaces a little, looking apologetic.

"I shouldn't have jumped you like that. I'm sorry. Can't help myself sometimes when I can tell that someone's sad. I feel it, y'see."

Childermass is not one for them himself either. Not exactly anyway. He will never be seen making a claim for territory or a bid for a seat on the Night Council. Not in the foreseeable future anyway. But he is under the service of Mr Norrell, a great man who just happens to need a terrible amount of guidance. And so he does his part, in a backwards sort of way. He just doesn't get the credit for it. He makes rather certain that no one notices him at all. It's better that way. For Norrell and himself both.

"A practical scientist," Childermass hums idly. "Who'd have thought it."

"I'm a genuine novelty," Waver says, with the same self depreciating smile he often deploys when department meetings get too intense and some wry statement is all that's needed to return things to normal. "And I'd prefer it to remain that way."

Not that Waver expects his conversation partner to really see anything in him worth using.

Faolan can't help the way that he looks at her like that. 'Can't help myself sometimes when I can tell that someone's sad.' The expression on his face is almost. Disbelieving. He's dealt with a lot of things over the years, a lot of strange things, but this is new to him.

He's not about to begin describing why he'd been upset. So instead he focuses on her instead. "How d'you mean, 'feel it'?" he asks, narrowing his eyes slightly, although more because he's skeptical than anything to do with any negative emotions.

"You describe to me what seeing is like and I'll tell you how I can tell what people feel."

She shrugs a little, she's never been any good with words. She can see of course, her point is more that how do you actually describe how a sense works, what it is like to have it?

"It's like... a sixth sense. I just know."

Faolan raises a hand, running it over his face as he shakes his head at her explanation. It doesn't really make a whole lot of sense, not to him at least. Then again, he's never had any preternatural ability himself. He's had to rely simply on common sense, cleverness, training. He's had to work hard to get to where he is, as good as he is. It doesn't make sense for other people to just be born with skills. (Although if he were to think about it he would suppose it would be like his own skills with music, but that is neither here nor there.)

"You make it...rather difficult to understand you, you know," he says, shaking his head slightly.

Well, Siobhan wouldn't exactly call her empathic ability a skill, nor would she say that it has gotten her particularly far.

"I've never been good with words."

And she does look genuinely sad that she can't give him the sort of explanation he'd like, but she really doesn't know how to describe her gift to him, and even if she could do it she's not sure he would understand it anyway.

It's hard for Faolan to understand much of anything of a metaphysical nature, with absolutely no abilities himself. Watching people with them, it mystifies him some times and frustrates him in others. This situation being perhaps one of the former. Watching Lancelot make his way up a vertical wall to a window two stories up? Definitely the latter.

"That makes two of us, then, I suppose," he says, somewhat apologetically. At least he understands he's not the best people person.

Okay, that makes her feel better again, so he is awarded with another of her sunny smiles before she shifts position and drains her cup of coffee before speaking again.

"Well... you know how you can sometimes tell when someone is sad? Even if they're trying to hide it? You just sort of... feel that something's up? It's a little bit like that, but much stronger. It's this... really weird mix of just knowing and feeling it in my body. If you were to get angry with me, for example, it would probably hurt a bit. Anger tends to give me the worst headache."

It unsettles Faolan a little. The idea that she could be in his head, without him wanting her to be. He might be somewhat grumpy a fair amount of the time -- alright, a lot of the time -- but it's his way of coping. His way of hiding from more complicated emotions that he would rather not deal with himself. Rather not face up to or admit to having. And it's unsettling that she should know them just by sitting across from him, when he spends so much time burying them away from the world, from even himself...

He doesn't want to ask what she felt that had led her to hug him. He's fairly certain that he already knows. And he's fairly certain that he doesn't want to talk about it. So when he speaks up, it's to ask, "So. You've been able to do this all your life, then?"

"Aye, took me a while to figure out that other people really couldn't. Well, except for my Da."

She doesn't exactly want to be inside people's heads. She knows that it probably seems... very invasive, even if she herself hardly ever minds sharing what's going on with her. She wishes that she could just push a button or something and give people privacy but she really can't. At least not for very long stretches of time.

It wasn't like she owned the place or anything. But it was her favorite bar to hang out at and pinch a few credit cards from behind the bar when no one was paying attention to all the servers going back and forth.

What she didn't like, was people starting shit where she was trying to work. In this kind of enviroment, bar wide brawls were easily a real thing and one fight was enough to set off a chain reaction.

She wasn't going to do that tonight. So. Preventative measures.

"Hey!"

Kenzi threw the door closed with a loud 'bang' to get everyone's attention, which wouldn't have been intimidating if not for the fire swirling through the fingers of her other hand. It wasn't something to be weaponized, no - but it was intimidating looking. Which she was not.

"Take it down the block!"

Between the girl, the fire, and the large man standing quite unafraid of them... Well. The young men decided against doing anything stupid. Which didn't mean that what the girl had done was smart. After all--

"Thank you."

First things first. He'd hardly wanted to have to do more damage. A criminal record would not do, and he had no friends in high places here. Which meant it was all the more vital he try and keep his temper under control himself. ...It was strangely difficult now that he was back on his own. The others who'd been recruited into the strange organization he'd found himself in had proven quite good at calming him down, despite their general unfamiliarity with him.

"But you should be careful. I believe there are laws about... that."

He made a gesture to her hand. While his first two words might not have truly made his accent known, continuing to speak only served to highlight it.

"At least being so openly displayed."

It was one of those rare days in London where it wasn't supposed to rain, and like an idiot Simon had decided to leave his umbrella at home.

So of course it was pouring.

It was an uncommonly cold storm for this time of year, and it felt even colder. Even with a hat, Simon's hair was dripping down the back of his neck and his glasses were basically useless with all the water spots on them. Figuring he would ride out the worst of the downpour, he ducked into a shop on his route home. A furniture store, as it turned out.

An unusually tense furniture store.

It took a moment for his glasses to defog, but once he could see again he noticed a very large man shouting angrily into a phone in another language while the girl at the counter cowered.

"Is there a problem?" he asked her, concerned. He ignored the large Russian man for now.

"So there are others in your family who can do the same?" Faolan asks. Which is good, at least, if true. It'd be pretty jarring, to be the only one with the ability, no one around to help or explain it to you. It happened. He's heard of people in the community coming from normal families. Hell, his family, he'd thought that they were normal, before he'd figured out otherwise and then everything had gone to shit. Ah, well.

Illya had noticed the man's odd behaviour quickly enough. Then again, he had followed several people often enough that he knew what it looked like when someone was trying to remain unnoticed by another. In this case... by a young woman who was already favouring one of her legs with a small limp. It was enough for him to pay attention.

He trailed them for three blocks, just to make sure. Every turn she made, the man behind her did, too. So, finally, Illya changed course, slipping through a few alleyways to emerge from one. Without faltering, he fell into step with her and offered, quietly, "You are being followed."

That his sudden presence might cause alarm, he didn't consider, not for a moment.

The girl behind the counter seemed to consider the question for a moment, looking between the young man and the larger one. Finally, though, she shook her head. "No." She still sounded a little uncertain, but she tried to smile. "What can I do for you?"

The Russian, for his part, was standing a ways off, texting. He tapped the screen quickly. Someone was going to give him a reasonable explanation as to why his cards were declining and fix the problem.

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Test Drive Meme: August 2015

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u3u prunes feathers (also forgive my delay, work is not kind to me)

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1

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Settling In

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for tearmeanewone

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