thetube | Test Drive Meme: August/September 2016

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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 and canon 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.)

Here are some prompts to inspire you:

1) HOUSE OF FUN. Whether it's your first time in London or you've lived here all your life, you hear that this is the place to be for someone like you. A place to let loose, have fun, and embrace your true nature, whatever that may be.

2) THE LION'S DEN. And this is not the place to be. This is the enemy's camp and if they catch you...

3) IT'S QUICKER IF YOU RUN. So here's the game: you run, they chase. You might even escape, with a bit of luck... or maybe some help.

4) THE GREAT BRITISH BAKE-OFF. Be inspired and make some cupcakes, attend a cake sale, or try home-baking with your friends. Who says supernatural creatures can't have a sweet tooth?

5) SUMMER = BBQ. Another great British tradition: the moment the sun appears, it's time to get out the barbecue and enjoy some slightly-burnt burgers and hotdogs. With summer fading, what are you waiting for?

6) THE CHEMIST. Even creatures of the night occasionally require a visit to the pharmacy. Bit awkward when you recognise a fellow supernatural being waiting for a prescription though...

7) STUCK ON THE TUBE. The Underground would like to apologise for the delay to this service. It's probably a signal failure. Not a supernatural trap or anything, nope.

8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. Anything goes.

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[ ooc: worthwhile notes! Was originally one of Fagin's brats, werewolf since 8 years old and kept mostly secret from the Unseelie Court for Fagin's own benefit, but hush-hush notable among humans and supernatural criminals in the area for being violent but also a good thief. Attacked a human in broad daylight near the full moon when when he was 23 sending the Unseelie Court into an uproar about this happening right under their noses, Fagin gives him up entirely. Sent to prison for 5 years. Now he's out, marked as dangerous, and living with Nancy in Circle Midnight territory, aligned with them by being Nancy's familiar. cheers! ]

[OPTION 1 ] HOUSE OF FUN.

[ Five years don't change much in a city like London. Sure, buildings go up, buildings come down, gentrification spreads further south and east but where it matters? In real London? Shit don't change. It's the same piss and vinegar city it's always been. Seeing the outside for the first time in what felt like ten years though, that was different. Not being able to go to his hood, his streets? That stings. Stuck up north with the Witches knowing that Nancy was shacking up with some vampire piece of shit? That don't sting, that burns. He'd grabbed her by the hair when he walked in and could smell it in the room. It smelled like betrayal, and before he did anything else to hurt her he bolted. He found Bullseye that night, stray and battered. The dog looks better now a couple of weeks later, healthier, and Bill lights himself another cigarette as he waits for Bullseye to take a piss. It's walkies time in North London, for one werewolf thug and his new best friend. ]

[ OPTION 2 ] THE LION'S DEN.

[ Bill Sikes is a veritable pick n mix of personality flaws. One particularly nasty one, aside from the temper and penchant for violent outbursts, is his inability to take a warning for what it is. Five long years in lock up to come out with the damn Unseelie Court telling him he can't come back to his own home? That's a load of bullshit. He should be more careful, but even with five years out he still has contacts in his business, and most of them are down south of the river.

He's not there on the very edge of Unseelie territory to start trouble, he's there to do business, waiting for an old fence to walk by on his way home. Trouble though, does tend to find him.]

[OPTION 3] SUMMER = BBQ

[ First full moon out of lock up, and Nance was hoping to keep him locked up again. Even if he'd begrudgingly agreed to it, when the moment came it didn't matter. He could have woken up curled around the love of his goddamn life but he didn't. He'd needed to get out, clawed and crashed his way back into the world, and woke up somewhere green. Stark fucking naked and in a bush like he was a fucking teenager again. There's blood on his tongue (not his, not Nancy's and not the fucking dog's so aside from that he don't give a shit to be honest), but the smell wafting through the air is....meat. Cooked meat, and he's starved. He ate something in the night but not enough. Cracking his neck and his back in three places, Bill spits blood out onto the grass before lumbering his way out of his privacy bush. ]

[OPTION 4] PICK YOUR OWN ADVENTURE!

Edited 2016-08-26 21:55 (UTC)

[Its great, having Bill back. it's awful, because Cooper, but this is Bill. He's the love of her damn life and being without him for five years was too much. He was good to her, he didn't have anything to prove. Life had shuffled into a small bit of a routine, and she doesn't hate it.

Nancy had ducked out to run to the market, pick up a new bottle of gin for the two of them, when she spots Bill and his new pup walking ahead. Picking up her pace she slides in next to him as he waits for the dog to pee.]

Can I get one?

[ His fuse may be short. but the fire that rages too hot doesn't last too long, not when it comes to Nancy. He's still pissed about the vampire, but she'd convinced him for the time being that she hadn't moved on, only satisfied her needs while he was away. The bites were near healed, but the bruise on her temple is still purple from slamming her head against the wall.

He doesn't remember being this soft for her before; he blames the contract she wrote up. Familiar sounds like another chain he doesn't want, but a contract goes both ways and a promise is a promise, they're in it together. He grunts an acknowledgement as he plucks out a cigarette for her. Once she's got it, his hand goes to nudge her chin so he can look at the bruise. Gentle, with no real grip. He does feel bad about hitting her. Not as as he probably should. ]

You're covering that up alright.

[nancy takes the cigarette and lights it with the tip of her finger. An easy trick she'd learned and always made good use of. She doesn't wince when he touches her. Instead, she leans into it, looking up at him. She missed him. She missed him so much and he's perfect.]

Bit of makeup, bit of magic. [She's better about hiding bruises than she had been five years ago.] It wasn't that bad.

[it had been terrifying, to go back to that so quickly. But he loved her. they had a contract that stated just as much. He loved her. so she forgave him.]

How's the pup getting on today?

[ Nancy is strong, he's always loved that about her. She can handle what he doles out without flinching too hard, without shrieking to high heaven. At least she could back then, and he notices when she doesn't flinch now. That's good. He's being good.

He nods and drops his hand, looking down at Bullseye who's waiting patiently to keep on walking. He smiles--barely, but it's there. ]

Better.

[ With a short whistle and a tug the walk continues, with Bullseye sniffing about. ]

Whoever took their shit out on him trained him good. Better off with me though.

[ He doesn't need to say why so he doesn't. Canines can always smell their own kind. ]

Good. [She's seen how far he's come in just a few short weeks. She smiles over at the dog. He adored Bill already, and clearly had affection for Nancy. But she was nowhere near Bill in his eyes. She knew it, and she respected it. She would never try to complete with the relationship the two dogs had.]

The poor boy- he's so much happier with you. [She could be talking about herself, as well, and she idly wonders if Bill has even thought about that.

She looks down at his hands, and wonders about slipping hers into his. If he'd let her do it so publicly.] I'll walk back to the flat with the two of you. Got some more gin and picked up a steak. [She'd been treating him to anything and everything he wanted. The least she could do, after all the terrible food he'd have had to endured in prison.]

[ The idea of anyone being happy with him is a foreign one. Happiness had never in his life been something he saw as achievable, never something he strove for. Fagin has done that to him of course, instilled in him a sense of personal value beyond personal pleasantry, but it's not something he's consciously aware of. All that he does know about happiness is that the closest he's ever had to that has been Nancy, though he would never call it that. Comfort, companionship maybe, love even, but never happiness.

Happiness isn't for people like them. ]

Mm, he should be, me taking him off the fucking street and all.

[ Another drag of his cigarette, smoke blown out through his nose as they continue to walk. ]

You learned to cook properly while I was in?

[Nancy strives for happiness. It's what she'd always wanted. She was happy with Bill, she told herself before, and was going to tell herself again and again, because she was happy with him. Though that would never explain the crushing sadness she felt. But maybe if she was happy enough, that would go away, too.

It hadn't, yet.]

He's a smart dog, knows he's got a good home when he sees it.

[They fed him, let him into the bed, there was no shortage of love for Bullseye in their home, not while she was in it.

Nancy takes her own drag, though it's mostly for something to do with her hands, as she walks with them.] You make it sound like I was an awful cook. [She had been a basic cook. Y'know, putting pizza in the oven, ordering take-away.] Yeah, I learned to cook properly. Ain't you excited? [There was a larger chance of him returning home, then. And she'd always have something ready for him, if that's what he wants.]

Mm. If it ain't any good Bullseye gets a good dinner, don't you boy?

[ It's not that he doesn't have faith in Nancy. He has more faith in Nancy than he's ever had in anyone other than himself. She's his for a reason, she's the best there is, the only one that really matters on this dying rock of a planet. It's just him, solid and unmoving. He barely knew how to thank her before he went in, but five years felt like ten thanks to Unseelie meddling, and what spark of warmth she might have set in him doesn't exist. Not as far as he's aware; it might not have existed at all.

Still he takes her hand in his, Bullseye's leash between them. ]

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stauncherhearted - 2016-09-06 00:27 (UTC) - Expand

They'll heal. [Nancy is sure if it, and she can work some literal magic, but she isn't speaking with confidence just yet. It's almost pleading as she places a hand over them. Don't get mad, Bill. The bites come with the territory. With working with vampires for years. she tried to hide them from other clients, but keeping a glamor up all the time was exhausting. So at home, she let her scars and marks show.

He'll notice the marks on her inner thigh soon enough, too. That was a particularly enjoyable vein for a lot of her clients to feed from. She wouldn't voulenteer the information, though. Right now, she just needed to keep her temper tantrum werewolf calm.]

If you want someone to blame, we both know who that man is. [redirect his anger. perfect.]

[ There's a difference between Nancy's clients and people she wants hanging around. The last time he'd seen her, before she'd really grown into herself, he was the only one who didn't have to pay. He didn't like it then just like he doesn't like it now, but a job's a job. He can swallow his pride if there's money on the table for it. The likes of them, they do what they can to survive.

One of them though, the one who's smell lingered in this goddamn apartment, that's different. It had taken a whole lot of explaining to get Bill back here at all.

( Where else was he supposed to go though? )

Sitting here on her bed, tracing bite marks and repeat use scars on her arms and neck, it takes everything in him to not dig his own claws into them and replace those with his own. The claws he doesn't have because the Night Council waited to let him out at his weakest. Smart. The abrupt and inconsolable rage has passed though, it sits instead at a simmer under his skin. He grabs her arm, tight in his grip as he glares at the patterns of teeth. ]

Don't think I haven't got it out for Fagin, he made his bed and he's gonna lie in it. These bites though, which of them are his?

[ Oh he knows the vampire's name, but he won't give him the respect that comes with using it. ]

[Something deep inside of her burns, low and hot, weighing her down. It's not because of how Bill's got his hand on her arm, how she's desperate to curl up against him and make promises. But he was here. Here, in her flat, with her, on her bed. She was still in awe of him.

She looks away from him, casting her eyes down to the bedroom floor where Juliet was still sniffing about. She wasn't sure what to think of Bill.]

I don't know.

[She can't tell him. She doesn't remember all of the ones that are his, and there's no way she can tell him all the same. She doesn't like her scars, and she doesn't want him to think of her clients, her ex, every time he looks at her.

She couldn't do that to them.

Nor, could she do that to Cooper.]

[ His grip tightens on her arms. It's the rage, with the moon still too new to be anything more than rage. He needs to know and it blinds him, as it always does. The jealousy, of the feeling of being lied to. ]

Don't you fucking lie to me to protect that bloodsucking bastard, which ones?

[She thanks whatever god that's listening that it's a new moon. But she tenses in his grip, wincing from the pain- that, she'll wince from. He's strong, doesn't know his own strength.]

I don't know!

[She tells herself she doesn't. But a few of them she can tie to very specific memories with Cooper.

She wanted to keep Bill's rage away from him, still.]

Yes you fucking do, Nance, you fucking do. How can you not fucking know?

[ he's not shouting, any raise in his voice limited to pitch not volume, accompanied by a growl between clenched teeth. His grip tightens; Even on a new moon he might still leave bruises. ]

[There will be bruises tomorrow on her pale skin. She looks away from him, scolded like a child, flinching away from the pressure.]

Bill, you're hurting me.

[The growl was no good, and her head still ached from when he'd thrown her against the wall. She swallows tightly, keeping her eyes down.]

My wrist. [She holds her right hand up, so he can see the silver scars that were etched across her blue veins.] He liked my wrist. [What was he going to do, she wanted to know.]

[He wasn't sure as to what scheme he was being brought in on, and that was more than a bit annoying. He'd always been told to what he was getting up to, and he was never the stool. Not anymore. He glanced at Sikes, arms crossed and gives a sniff. There's sheer cheek in the look that he gives the man, but to Dodger, the lack of information he's been given is cheek as well. It ain't like he was a kid. ]

Don't see why you couldn't have gotten some brat to do this. I was busy graftin', go pick up one of the kids who ain't got the knack yet. I ain't some kid lookin' to learn, I've got my skills.

... What's the job, anyway?

Edited 2016-08-26 22:23 (UTC)

[WOULDN'T IT BE ANNOYING IF THOSE TWO ISSUES WERE ONE AND THE SAME.]

[They're not-- Eames doesn't fence for people he doesn't know, not anymore. But boy wouldn't that be fun.]

[He does, however, have certain responsibilities. Lord of Autumn, etc. etc. And with an absentee Winter and royals who couldn't care less about the mortal realm, it means he's the one they come to with their petty complaints. "That werewolf's back" "oh, you have to tell him he's not allowed here!" Eames doesn't give a shit. Let him do what he wants, and if he gets too rowdy then put him down. It's not like being one of Fagin's fuckups grants him any special privileges.]

[But he has to at least pretend to care, and so he tracks the wolf down. He's not hard to find. Straight back to old habits by the sound of it. Sorry Bill, there's a bit of a delay with that fence of yours — busted nose, you know how it goes — but Eames is here with a bored look on his face and a large americano from Costa. (The coffee's not great but he's a real sucker for those textured cups.)]

That guy you're waiting for-- Steve? Dave? [Maybe he should've asked.] He's not going to be making it.

[ He smells the coffee before he smells the fae, but that's because the coffee's burnt to shit. Being firmly placed in banned territory when one of those who burned and banned you in the first place comes stalking up should send him running, but running's never been his first choice. He wouldn't have come if it weren't close enough to the full moon for him to put up a hell of a fight anyway.

Stubborn he may be, but stupid he ain't.

He sucks his teeth, looking Eames dead in the eye. For a moment he says nothing, assessing, and not particularly bothered at that. ]

Shame.

[Eames returns the look, similarly assessing the man opposite. Everything about him is rough and jagged in that way that tells him all he needs to know about what he's dealing with here. Part of him thinking it's a damn good thing he's not here for a fight while another would relish the opportunity to throw down with someone like this so close to the full moon.]

[He sighs over the rim of his drink; professionalism wins for now.]

You know you're not supposed to be here.

[There's an incredible lack of anything to the way Eames says it; a man recounting a fact with zero interest in what it means. It's a token effort on his part, and besides that he already gets the feeling Bill is the sort who'll do what he wants.]

[ There are a lot of things Bill isn't supposed to do. Unfortunately for everyone else, he's never been the type to give a shit about those sorts of rules and regulations, so long as he can get around them or fight through them.

He's been a wolf longer than he was ever just human, and it reads in his unmoving stance, staring down, ready to dart forward if need be but steady, always steady.]

Good to know. Jog on, then.

[The expression on Eames' face is tired more than anything. He doesn't want to do this — never wanted to be a Lord to begin with — but he's stuck here trying to talk with a stray dog like you could ever make an animal listen to reason.]

[He takes a step closer, casual and easy, ostensibly just out of a desire not to be overheard as he shoots a quick glance over his shoulder. There's nothing about the way he moves that dictates any intention to start a fight; all easy grace and boredom instead of hostility.]

That's not how this works. [Eames smiles, but it's thin; doesn't reach his eyes. There's not a friendly thing about it.] But if you could at least pretend to give a shit? That'd get me out of your hair a lot sooner.

[ Bill's temper is a beast all it's own, snarling and gnashing its teeth beneath his skin. It's always been there, integral in his existence, and the moon only makes his temper flare hotter. His fists clench in the pockets of his jacket, Eames' smug grace riling his hackles like fur pet backwards.

He's not angry, not yet, but annoyed? Annoying him is easy enough.

When he speaks it's no louder than before. It's quieter even, by a fraction of a decibel, passing through a snarl. ]

That's not how this works. [ He repeats in confirmation. ] I said jog on, so jog on.

[Oh, that's cute. The dog thinks he's in a position to give orders. Eames doesn't move in any direction, head dipping for a brief moment with an amused smirk.]

We're going to have a conversation first. About you keeping your nose out of Fae territory.

[Why mus people make this shit so difficult.]

[ Fae territory. Had it been Fae territory before Fagin pulled the rug out from under him? Sure, but it hadn't mattered a damn bit. He worked here, he lived here, he had his pack here, right under their noses. His eyes narrow, lip curling into a sneer. His fists stay in his pockets but he takes a step forward to close the space between them, looming. He wants to tear the fucker's throat out, but he can hear Nancy's voice in his head like it's tugging on the back of his neck--don't start a fight with them, you'll be killed for it. ]

Fae territory, fuck off. I lived here. Aint keeping me out of my own home, you get me?

Edited 2016-09-16 00:16 (UTC)

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falsify - 2016-09-16 02:11 (UTC) - Expand

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Test Drive Meme: August/September 2016

Bill Sikes | Oliver Twist | Werewolf

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