Test Drive Meme: August 2015

[undergroundmods]

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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.

Comments

[knowstheworld]

Childermass is growing tired of being reprimanded for a thing which he has already explained was not his fault. Moreover -- yes, he might have inconvenienced Norrell in the fact that the man had come all this way over to bail him out, but it hadn't needed to be him. He could have sent anyone in his house. Childermass knows what the man thinks of such places, he knows what his opinion is on traveling in general. Either he made the journey because somewhere, in that shrivelled little heart of his, he cares what happens to him in some regard. Or because if he did he may have that much more reason to compain at him for all of this. Childermass cannot honestly say which is more likely. Perhaps both, in a way.

He sighs to himself, and continues, feeling as though they have had this conversation before, "And have you ever known me to be drunk in the performance of my duties?" He shoots the small man an intimidating look to accompany his icy words, before he draws back, knowing that he can toe the line of putting Norrell in his place but must (generally) refrain from crossing it.

"I stopped for some food on the way back. Got caught up in someone else's fight. It is as I told you, sir. No more, no less." His head is really starting to ache. They cared about whether or not he was going to bleed to death in that cell, not whether or not it would hurt while he did so.

[hurtfew]

"You might have been drinking while you stopped," Norrell points out, clearly stuck on this point. "That is what people do in such places. Drink, and fight. Get into trouble." His face scrunches on each word, as if the very utterance of it is greatly distasteful, before glancing sideways at Childermass. Studying him and seeming to compose himself, if in an uneasy sort of fashion. As if the slight reprimand has wrongfooted him once more and he is unsure how to respond.

"We will have to find you something to change into," he declares finally, "Or a jacket to better hide that -- I will not be seen with a man covered in blood, it will bring people to stare."

[knowstheworld]

Childermass makes note of the fact that Norrell is fussing about his clothes and what people will think about him and how that might affect Norrell's reputation -- rather than the fact that there is a rather definite bruise forming across his face and it's clear that the blood is his for that matter. But he can hardly be surprised. Such fussing has Norrell written all over it. And why should he concern himself with his own personal wellbeing, he supposes. He's a drunk, inconvenient servant, in the other man's estimations. Never mind the decades of service he's given him.

Childermass makes an exasperated noise. "Yes, well," he says, "forgive me for not warning you so that you might bring a change for me. I will remind you that I was incarcerated until just now. Sir." He takes a deep breath, to calm himself as much as to try and ease the headache forming as well.

"I imagine that they will be bringing my jacket along. With the rest of my things that were taken away from me earlier. Your book, for instance. Or have you forgotten the nature of my business in the first place, in such excitement." He raises a wry eyebrow at the other man, although the minute swelling in his face is starting to take away from the usual effect of the expression.

[hurtfew]

The book.

Norrell's eyes dart back to him, having drifted to study people who might be watching them, and immediately he is on the offensive.

"You have it? You let them take it? Well, you must get it back! What if they have damaged it? What if they think to read it? No, no you must retrieve it immediately! That is the only copy left! I cannot have it damaged or -- or stained in some way! What if they have dropped it, opened it too wide, damaged the spine? Held it with dirty hands?!"

[knowstheworld]

Childermass rolls his eyes slightly. The book, the damned book. He's lucky he didn't lose it in the fight, or worse. Lucky that the lager had been spilled on him and not on the book itself. Best not tell Norrell about that part. He takes another calming breath -- he feels as though he will be doing a great many of these to come, both now and on the ride home -- before he speaks up to continue.

"It was safe in the packaging, last I left it. Same as it was when I retrieved it for you. Unless they needed to check it for contraband, I doubt that they've done anything to it at all. And we shall get it back soon. As you shall see." The last was said a bit more forceful than the rest of his placatory words, but Childermass really is intending to calm the other man down, not stir him up further.

[hurtfew]

His lips thin unhappily, and Norrell is clearly biting down on the urge to complain further -- yet as a blessing for all present he rises above such desires.

"Well when is soon. Are they fetching these things now? I cannot stay here much longer. I have things to do. People depend on me, Childermass, you know that. I cannot be passing the time sitting idly be while the metropolitan police contrive to keep us waiting. It will not do."

[knowstheworld]

Childermass cannot help the quirk of his mouth that appears at Norrell's fussing. "I have no doubt that they are taking their time to vex you, sir, but they will arrive in time. As you will see. In the meanwhile, will you tell me what pressing engagement you may have, so that I may better apologize for keeping you."

He knows very well that Norrell likely as not has absolutely nothing on his agenda and is just itching to get out of there and back to the safety of hearth and home, as it were. Perhaps he is calling him out on it on purpose because he is tired. Perhaps it is simply within his nature. He really would rather that Norrell have sent Lucas instead. At least then he might have had some sympathy for his present situation and his aching head, instead of...well. This.

[hurtfew]

At the question of what, exactly, his pressing engagement might be Norrell draws himself up a little. Regards Childermass with a mixture of frustration and irritation as he decides how to answer.

He has no pressing engagement to speak of, as the man suspects, yet to Norrell every minute of his day is important.

"I have research to be doing," he declares, "and as you well know I have a great many articles to get through and approve."

Norrell does not, in truth, have to approve these articles. He offered to to, and then insisted. His 'corrections' may well be copious and of great irritation to the poor authors who hoped for a little more neutrality.

[knowstheworld]

Childermass does not speak up to question whether or not Norrell would be doing such a thing right now, at this hour, if he were not here, rescuing him from prison. He knows better than that. For one, Norrell probably would be locked up in his study, doing exactly that. And for another, he knows how to read the other man's defense when he sees it, and he can certainly tell that Norrell is being defensive now. He lets out a tired sigh, before allowing himself to sink down into one of the waiting room chairs.

"I do know," he concedes. "I am sorry that I cannot do anything to hurry them for you. Not this time. They may very well put me back in that cell if I try." And then where will you be, he wonders to himself. He sits back, leaning his head against the wall to look at the other man carefully, to take in the measure of him, before he repeats again, "Why are you here, sir? Why did you not send Lucas, or another in your stead, so that you might have continued your research uninterrupted, in that case?"

[hurtfew]

Norrell draws himself up a little at that, scowls at the question Childermass addresses to him.

"The book, of course! I wanted to be sure you had not lost it or had it taken with all this fuss. There will have to be payments made, too, favours asked to keep this quiet. You are costing me money now, too. It will be taken out of your wages."

He lofts an eyebrow at Childermass meaningfully, looks away into the station. Gilbert Norrell is beginning to quickly tire of waiting. It is a clear sign of incompetence, to him, ignorance. To keep him waiting so long. If this were a Night Council issue...! Well, it would be dealt with much more swiftly and with respect!

[knowstheworld]

Childermass lets out something of a snort at the other man's response. Of course he should answer like that. Of course he would. Childermass lets his eyes fall shut. His head really does hurt. He had wondered if his nose might have been broken, although supposes that there was no harm done there, if it had. He's starting to wonder if he might be mildly concussed at that. Ah, well. More's the pity, he supposes at that as well.

"Ah, the book," he says, turning away from the other man and sinking down further in his chair. He is not quite certain whether he believes him in whole, but it is the only thing that Norrell had mentioned that Childermass would actually have pinned Norrell for putting the effort forth for. He really didn't like making appearances like this, after all.