thetube | Test Drive Meme: December 2016/January 2017

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MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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.)

Here are some prompts to inspire you:

1) STAY ANOTHER DAY. Maybe it's just for the holidays, but if you've come to London to reconnect with friends and family, now is the time to make the most of it. And it turns out, someone is pretty keen for you to stick around. Your loved ones? Or perhaps you've been noticed by one of London's supernatural factions. Don't go just yet, friend. The city may need you.

2) CHRISTMAS DAY / BOXING DAY. (25th-26th December) Whatever you think of Christmas, it's everywhere in London. Christmas songs on the radio, Christmas lights in the streets, carol singers, and presents under the tree. Of course, in the supernatural world, the presents may just have a magical twist. What's that strange little gift from an unknown sender...?

3) NEW YEAR'S EVE FIREWORKS. (31st December) The New Year's Eve fireworks display is always spectacular. Count down to midnight with Big Ben, then watch the spectacle along with the crowds. Or you could stay at home and watch it on TV.

4) STRANDED. Your flight got cancelled. A storm delayed your train home. The hotel made a mistake with your booking and now you have nowhere to stay. Whatever the reason, you're stuck in London with nowhere to go and it is cold. Depending on where you've ended up, it might be dangerous as well. Are your kind welcome here?

5) DRINK YOUR SORROWS AWAY. Look, it's winter, it's dark, not everyone is having a good time. Might as well buy a drink... and another... and another...

6) NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION. Goodbye 2016, hello 2017. New year, new you. You've decided to make a change, maybe for yourself, maybe for the entire supernatural community. How are you getting on?

7) CALL A TRUCE. The holidays are a time of peace. Maybe just this once you can have a drink with an enemy and put aside any bad blood.

8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. Anything goes.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

MOVE IT OR LOSE IT
No one likes to travel. An almost eleven hour flight is, basically, the bossfight of travel.

Ghoul decided he was finished with the trip somewhere around the four-hour mark, but he couldn't very well hop out of the plane and swim his way to London, so he'd stuck it out. And simmered the whole way.

He was nearly crawling out of his own skin by the time he touched solid ground again, and even now, with an hour and a good number of miles between himself and the airport, he's not feeling much better. He's got a white-knuckled grip on the strap of the bag slung across his body as he moodily stomps his way along the sidewalk. Most people have the good sense to move aside or twist away at the last second, but his luck runs out at some point, and a shoulder catches him completely off guard.

It's enough to bring Ghoul to a stumbling stop. He stands there with a dumb, confused look on his face for a few seconds before his eyes narrow and he plows forward a step. "Try holding your fuckin' eyes open while you walk, chief."

BLESS YOU (for vampires or vampire allies!)
Ghoul's got a train to catch. He gets lost a time or two, swept away by the sea of rush-hour bodies, but he gets himself back on track. He supposes.

At the last moment, he darts his way on to what is probably the right train car, just before the doors slide shut. He manages a quick sigh of relief before his nose is filled with an acrid smell. The reaction is almost instant- unavoidable and reflexive, like getting an unexpected whiff of black pepper. Ghoul barely has time to even think the word vampire before he's sneezing, loud and wet, all over the poor thing's back.

Or their front, if they're extremely unlucky.

NO COMMITMENT TO SPARKLE MOTION
Having been in the area for only a few days, there's still a lot he doesn't know. What he does know is that he's accidentally stumbled across a cozy little shop that makes damn good pastries. The drinks aren't half bad either. It's Ghoul's second day in a row at the establishment, and he's keeping it simple today with an order of hot chocolate. The place isn't all that crowded, either, allowing him to happily slip in to place behind a tiny corner table.

He's all set to chill out and people-watch for a while when he figures out he's forgotten napkins.

Ghoul's gone for only a matter of seconds, but when he returns, he finds a small box resting innocently next to his mug. With a tilt of his head, he moves closer, eyeballing it warily. It's kind of cute. Designed like a gift box with the words 'nO pEeKiNg' printed cartoonishly on the lid. Ghoul looks around for any indication of who might have placed it there as he re-takes his seat, and after a moment of consideration, he reaches out to pick it up.

It's warning him not to peek, sure, but what else is he supposed to do with it?

He should've left well enough alone, apparently. As soon as he flips the lid off the box, there's a pop and then a merciless assault of glitter and confetti. And it's everywhere. Absolutely fucking everywhere. All over his jacket, in his hair, on his face. There's probably even some in his drink, but he can't bring himself to look.

Everything is officially awful.

Party's got a shopping bag full of colorful spray paint cans for his latest project and he's almost lost in thoughts of bats bleeding rainbows when he gets shoulder checked by what he'd expected to be some asshole tourist.

As he turns around, he's growling before his brain can even catch up to his nose. This guy is a werewolf and he isn't one Party's met before, which means he isn't Pack and he could easily be trouble, especially the way things have been going lately.

"Try walkin' like a fuckin' big person, kid." He bares his teeth and the cans jostle loudly in his bag.

Ghoul doesn't even bother resisting the urge to roll his eyes. This child-faced motherfucker has the audacity to throw the kid card down? That's cute. He considers arguing or even insisting he's probably older than this guy- another wolf!!, some secondary part of his mind supplies helpfully. But that part can sit down and shut the fuck up because Ghoul is grouchy, tired, and in critical need of a shower to blast the recycled-air stink off himself.

Instead of correcting Party, he decides to roll with it this time. The stormy look on his face evens out in to something milder and he arches a brow. It's not a drastic shift in expression, but somehow, he manages to make it look unbearably patronizing. "Yeah? I'll give it a shot. 'Parently all I gotta do is clomp around with my head up my ass. Thanks, Red."

He raises a hand, shooting Party a two-fingered mock salute.

Party's hackles are easily raised and that's not something that just comes from being a werewolf, either. His shoulders are tense as he steps closer, hands on his hips.

"You're the one walkin' around like you're better than everyone else. Not my fuckin' fault I didn't see you down there."

He slings his bag a little higher on his shoulder, cans clinking. "What're you doin' around here, anyway?"

Again? He blows out an annoyed breath, stubbornly standing his ground even as Party comes way too close to invading his personal space. "Fuck off, you're not even that much bigger than me." Seriously...

Ghoul's so wound up that he doesn't even want to answer the question. He's quiet for a long moment, dragging his palms over his face in exasperation and exhaustion. By the time he's reeled his temper in a bit, his hands have dropped back down to his sides and his mouth has started moving without his permission. "I guess I'm going home or some shit."

It feels weird to call it home when it's so new and unfamiliar, but that's what it technically is. At least until he finds what he came here for.

Not that it's any of this guy's business. Ghoul scowls at the nosy stranger and his noisy bag. "The fuck are you doing? Recycling?"

"You got me. I'm recycling." He's almost sort-of up-cycling, so it's not far off. It's just that he mostly up-cycles the sides of buildings that aren't strictly his to up-cycle.

His nostrils flare. Who does this guy think he is, anyway? Not long ago, werewolves were getting strung up for sport around here. He can't just go wandering around like he belongs. Granted that's exactly what Party had done and right into Islington's territory, too, but he'd known what he'd been doing at least. He's also been kind of fucked up at the time, too, but that's neither here nor there.

"Might wanna pay better attention. You gotta watch where you go in this city if you don't wanna get fucked up."

"I got it," he grinds out. This guy doesn't let up. Of course, Ghoul's misunderstanding him this time. He's taking what could be considered a general warning as a direct threat, and it's making his skin feel prickly with aggression again.

He can't get in to a street brawl within the first few hours of being in the city, though. Accommodations for him have been arranged based on the word of a friend, and if he throws down right here and now, not only will he make his friend back home look like an unreliable jackass who keeps poor company, but he understands that he may also fuck up his foster-pack's inner-city relationships. He's trying to be responsible here.

He's trying real, real hard.

Ghoul pulls in a breath. He can totally iron this out. "Listen. Okay? I only wanna get to where I'm supposed to be. Ain't even stayin' in this area, so just chill out with the top-dog shit and you'll have your space back." He gestures broadly at the surrounding area with his arm at that last part (because Party must be feeling territorial or something), nearly swatting a random passerby in the face. Ghoul's not sure what half of the curse words that come out of the man's mouth even mean, but he shoots back an equally angry sounding, "Fuckin' sorry, dick!"

This, too, is definitely Red's fault. He's causing all sorts of problems for Ghoul.

Even Party pulls a face at the guy. Can't he see that they're having a fucking conversation here? Who walks into two dudes yelling at each other, anyway?

"Shit, man." His voice drops to a stage whisper. The last thing he needs is to get in trouble with his pack or one of the other factions that they're still getting along with. "You wanna wind up a pelt on some fuckin' vamp's wall, be my fuckin' guest. Don't know why I even bother."

He shifts his weight, hikes his bag higher on his shoulder and walks away, rolling his eyes and muttering all the while. "Fuckin' idiot."

Ghoul's feathers are less ruffled when he turns his attention back to Party. It's nice to have a common enemy, but the passing man ends up pretty well out of earshot within a few seconds, leaving him alone again with Party and his fussing.

A pelt on- what the fuck?

Ghoul's face looks only about as half as incredulous as he feels. He knows that yeah, sure, vampires and werewolves historically haven't gotten along. He's not so foolish as to think they'd all be best friends here, especially when they have no similar goals to work towards like they had back home, but pelts on walls? That's fucked up.

Then again, Party looks about as reliable as a tabloid. Figures that he'd run in to a doomsday-crier who probably lives in a cardboard box somewhere. He groans at the thought, giving up the fight right then and there. He'll be damned if he's gonna waste time arguing in circles with an overdramatic homeless guy. As soon as Party starts walking, Ghoul turns on his heel and does the same, trudging off in the opposite direction.

Nancy is not a vampire. But she wakes up every day in a vampire's bed, works with vampires, is fed on by vampires, and generally smells like a vampire. So Ghoul's reaction could very easily be forgiven.

If he hadn't sneezed all over her.

Nancy makes a face, wincing. "Bloody 'ell," she mutters, her Cockney accent getting the best of her. "Cover your nose next time, will you? Learn some manners, yeah?"

Aww, shit.

The distasteful look on the woman's face is almost perfectly mirrored by his own. Or, well, it would be if it weren't for his hands covering the lower half of it. See, he did cover up! Just... a little too late, that's all. His eyes crinkle up briefly from a cringe, his voice muffled as he offers a surprisingly sincere, "M'sorry." After a quick sniffle, he slowly lowers his hands again. Now that he's expecting the smell, he can handle it a little better. Still kind of tickles his sinuses, but he's prepared this time. Another sneeze won't sneak up on him.

Maybe.

"Ugh- sorry," he repeats with a frown. Now he feels all awkward and like he has to explain shit like no, he's not some creepy American who makes a hobby out of sneezing all over strangers. "Sometimes people like you kinda reek, I wasn't ready."

Oh, that clears things right up.

People like her?

His words do little to calm her, as Nancy fixes him with a look that her brothers would probably call her 'mum look'. Basically, she wasn't happy.

"And what exactly do you mean by that?" She rounds on him, glad the train is empty save the two of them. But that doesn't stop the pages of an abandoned paper from rustling down at the end of the carriage.

This girl's tiny and not even a wolf. She has no authority over him at all, but even so, Ghoul finds himself shrinking back. He's not looking for a fight, this time. Figures he'd find one when it's the last thing on his mind. "What?" A quick look around the car provides him no sanctuary or advice. He's not so sure he's comfortable with there being no witnesses around when she decides to go berserker on him.

On the plus side, though, it seems like they'll be able to carry on their awkward conversation in peace. "I don't really mean it in a bad way, it's just. You know," he begins, waving a hand about vaguely after he turns to face her again. Doing so stirs up the air between them in just the right way, and he pauses.

Suddenly, he's looking very puzzled. She's not a vampire. She only smells like one. More than one, actually, now that he's paying attention.

Ghoul's mouth opens and closes a time or two uselessly, like a fish out of water, as he considers how to proceed. Does she even know that her social circle is saturated with vampires? "Uh... Nevermind, maybe you don't know?"

Nancy's never one to back down from a fight. Even when she's outnumbered, or clearly going to lose. She's always been a fighter, despite her tiny stature.

"No, I don't know," she challenges, assuming of course he's referring to the fact that she was a prostitute. The goal was to get him to say it, so she could properly curse his ass into next year.

But he pauses, and she has to, too, and the way he's looking at her... For the first time, she really pays attention to him. He's a wolf. Of course.

"I know," she says, but her proverbial haunches are still up. If he's going to lambast her for being with a vampire, he's got another thing coming.

Ghoul squints at her, evidently still feeling a little skeptical as to whether or not they're both on the same page. Only one way to find out. "So, you know about your friends and their, uh... habits?" Yes. Their habits. Of the biting variety. Great way to put it.

He's only just now realizing how difficult it is to keep this sort of shit vague enough to be safe, just in case it turns out that she doesn't know what she thinks she knows.

Nancy raises her eyebrow at him. Yeah, habits. Sure.

"Very," she tells him, and there's a moment when something around Nancy's neck changes, the makeup seemingly fading completely, leaving her with a decent puncture wound on her neck.

But just like that, it's gone, once more concealed by her use of magic and makeup.

Plus, that removes any need to keep things vague. If he gets it, he gets it.

"Of course, I know about some of my friends' furry habits, as well."

He almost misses it. Maybe it could be mistaken as a passing shadow or an odd shift of her hair, but- something briefly looks like a bite mark on her neck. And it for sure ain't from wolf teeth. It's gone again quickly enough for him to flash her a questioning look before the relief of knowing they're definitely on the same wavelength overwhelms him, and he sags from the release of tension. Thank fuck for that. He hates dancing around these sorts of topics.

Now that he knows what he's working with (sort of), he feels comfortable enough to plop down in to one of the nearby seats with a groan. "Don't call 'em furry-anything. Like, please, for real. There's a whole 'nother scene that's already claimed the 'furry' thing, and it's just..." He shakes his head, face screwing up like he's tasted something bitter. "It's bad." He should know. He made that mistake before, back when he was still using the internet as his go-to method of figuring out what was what.

Never, ever again.

He quickly changes the subject, perhaps to an equally poor one, as he gestures towards his own neck with a wriggle of his fingers. "That thing's kinda gnarly. It supposed to look like that?"

Nancy resists the urge to roll her eyes.

"My ex was one of you," she explains. "I know better." Though, truthfully, Bill had no idea how to internet, she was pretty sure. He'd been a ludite, when it came to any sort of modern technology. "But it's the easiest way to say it in public, I've found." She gives him an almost apologetic smile. Almost.

Her expression darkens for a moment. "It's old," she lies. It had healed better than the claw marks she had on her body. "But it's clean."

Ghoul nods, glancing down at his lap while he plays with a string hanging off the hem of his jacket. It still sounds weird, hearing that. The one of you thing. Maybe he should be used to it by now. Whatever.

When he looks back up at her again, he tilts his head. It didn't look all that old to him, but who is he to argue? Not like he's been bitten by a vampire before. She's in a better place to judge than he is. "That's good," he comments, and then delicately continues on. "They treat you okay, then?" He generally doesn't pry in to peoples' personal lives, but this area is a touchy matter for him. She's most likely fine- she's not visibly torn up or weak, she hasn't been turned, and she's not being flanked by creepy thugs. All signs point to her being in a situation she's happy with and in control of, but he won't be able to sleep tonight unless he asks.

She doesn't have to lie, when she tells him, "They do." Cooper has been nothing but a saint to her for the past 6 or so months, even before that. He's a good boyfriend, one of the best she's ever had, and most of the vampires she worked with regularly now were good to her.

Having a place to work in Canary Warf certainly helped. As well as her slightly dwindling vampire clientele. No one wanted to upset the Marquess of Hackney by hurting his girlfriend, prostitute or not.

"My boyfriend's brilliant. I can't complain."

"Yeah?" Ghoul grins as if it's the best news he's heard all day.

He is glad, truthfully. He hasn't seen the aftermath of a vampire's cruelty very often or even to its full extent, but there's been enough for him to make up his mind regarding what he Will and Will Not tolerate. If there are decent vampires around, maybe things won't be so bad here.

Step one in making that maybe happen is making sure he's not hunted down for spraying spit all over somebody's girlfriend. "Since they're so nice'n all, there's no reason to tell 'em I accidentally sneezed on you then. Don't wanna bother 'em. Right?"

There are quite a few decent vampires around here, and she'd be happy to introduce them.

"Yeah," she agrees, and looks down at her clothing. Any smile was swallowed up by a deep frown.

"You're lucky I can fix it quick," she said, and thankful that they were alone in the car, waves her hand over the gross bits of her clothing. Her face screws up in concentration, her eyes shut and brow furrowed; but once she passes her hand across said clothing, it slowly begins to clean.

When she's done, she leans back against the window and exhales.

Ghoul's grin falters at her statement. He's about to question her, but before he can, she goes right on ahead and shows him.

And he's just god damn tickled by it. Magic is one of those things that will probably never get old, no matter how many times he sees it. "Aw, shit, look at you! You could run every dry cleaner in the city out of business like that." She should absolutely do it, Ghoul wouldn't even charge her for the idea.

Well. Not much, anyway. Only something like 40%.

Then again, maybe she shouldn't. Something about the way she leans and breathes has him asking, "You okay?"

Nancy blushes, even as she keeps her head against the glass. "Oh, no, I could never," she said, trying to wave the idea away. She had a job. It just wasn't that great. Or legal.

Or something the Night Council thought she was practicing anymore.

"I'm fine," she says. "Just not a spell I'm used to." Healing she could do. Cleaning was something else entirely.

His face scrunches up disagreeably when Nancy insists she couldn't possibly. What a shame. Ghoul could commit to a project like that in a heartbeat, and really, it's a blessing that he wasn't born a witch. There's not enough money on the planet to keep up with him.

As things are now, his knowledge of magic is a bit spotty. He's easily boggled by the different forms and limitations of it, and all those lines in the sand start getting even more muddled when things like fae are thrown in to the mix. After a moment of half-squinting at her thoughtfully, something in his mind clicks in to place. "That neck thing was you, right?" Not vampire magic after all, huh. Vampire magic... now that he thinks about it, that sounds pretty stupid. "What all can you do?"

Test Drive Meme: December 2016/January 2017

fun ghoul / danger days: blah blah killjoys / werewoof

YOU MOVE IT OR LOSE IT

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