thetube | Test Drive Meme: April-May 2017

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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.)

Here are some prompts to inspire you:

1) STRANGE TOWN. So this is London. You're in the underbelly of the city, the shadow of the Underground where the vampires and the ghosts and other strange creatures come out to play. Still, at least the Tube staff take it all in stride.

2) NO ONE CARES. You're out on the streets and you're in trouble. Maybe you don't have a bed for the night, maybe you're injured and in need of aid, maybe you just missed your train. But that's the thing about big cities: people walk past. They don't listen. They don't help. Will some kind soul take note of your plight?

3) DON'T BE WEIRD. You may not be quite an ordinary human, but that doesn't mean you can't do your shopping or order a coffee, right? No accidental magic, no letting your fangs show or whatever supernatural appendages you've got going on. Just act normal.

4) WEAR THE RIGHT CLOTHES. You're at a fancy event with black ties and finger food. Fund raising for some supernatural cause or other? Better look smart.

5) FIND A FRIENDLY FACE. Go to one of the local supernatural haunts and sit down for a well-earned drink with a friend. You earned it.

6) BURN IT UP. (1st May) The fire festival of Beltane is a time of celebration for witches, marking the beginning of summer. Come along to the bonfire for music, food and drink, flower crowns and fertility rituals.

7) LOOK IN THE MIRROR. (1st May) Beltane is also a time when the barrier between the human world and the Other Realm is at its thinnest, making it easy to pass from one realm to the other by chance. You might even have an encounter with the mysterious and mischievous fae.

8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. Anything goes.

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2. No One Cares
It's been a hell of a ride, and Johanna is knackered. Fresh off the plane from Panem - America, she hastily reminds herself - and still trying to deal with whatever the hell's just happened, she sinks down to the pavement, sitting with her back against the wall. She's not particularly bothered that she's sat on the floor; she's been through worse. She's definitely not scared - that earns a snort. Scared. What is there to be worried about in London? Her hand drifts to her pocket though, to her pen knife. Nowhere near as dramatic as an axe, but effective nonetheless.

She glares at people as they pass by. Let them think she's homeless if they want. She knows she looks a scruff with her janky hair and the old duffel bag next to her. She doesn't care. When she notices a person staring at her for longer than normal though, she sticks her middle finger up.

"Fuck off."

6. Burn It Up

It's a load of gimmicks, isn't it? Johanna sits alone, quite close to the fire, enjoying it's warmth. She glares around at the festivities though, with distain. She has no interest in any of this rubbish. It's like one of Snow's parties, all frivolity and no substance to it. It makes her sick, but in a macabre way, she feels like she should be there. Not that anyone's noticed her. Who would ever care about Johanna being there? She snorts a jeer and shakes her head.
She would like to set fire to the whole of freaking London, and America along with it. Light the match, watch it burn, let it take her too.

Edited 2017-05-01 15:14 (UTC)

She stares because the scent and sense of another wolf is familiar, and being able to tell is still new enough that Girl revels in it. She's forgotten that things like staring are considered rude, one of her many graces lost from spending so much time away from society. She thinks the right response is to apologize, but her curse and, its effect to her personality, still rings new. Girl bristles at the confrontational tone, hunches raised.

"I ain't doin' anything." She jams her hands into her pockets, frowning at Johanna. "Just lookin'."

Johanna bares her teeth in a wicked snarl at the Girl's response. "Take a fucking picture then," she grumbles. She knows she looks a state, but you know, she thought she was leaving all that self-obsession behind when she left America.

"You never seen -" she's not admitting what she is, not that she cares, but let the girl imagine. Let her fill in the blanks. Johanna's laugh, high and merciless, almost dares Girl to think the worst of her.

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Knock yourself out." And just to cause as much offence as she possibly can, she makes sure she sits with her knees akimbo, and she pulls a 'herbal' cigarette from a pack stashed in her duffle. It drips from her mouth as she pats her pockets for a lighter.

"Seen plenty." Strange people, the homeless, werewolves. Girl doesn't know what Johanna means, but it's an answer to any of it.

She raises an eyebrow at the cigarette the woman brings out. It's a ballsy move, considering they're still in the middle of the streets. Girl's not sure why she's surprised. The woman clearly doesn't care what she's thought of.

Still, a wolf's a wolf and she supposes there should be some level of community between them. Even if Girl has to act the bigger person for it.

"Here," she says, still frowning as she fishes a little book of matches from her pocket.

Annie's fresh off a plane, too. This one from Ireland, bringing her back to London. Her boyfriend needed her close by, and she wasn't going to let him out of her sight, not with the witches trying to trap fae. She couldn't let that happen to Finnick. Not again.

She only notices Johanna out of the corner of her eye as she steps toward the curb, hoping to hail a cab to take her to Finnick's flat. She's a pretty girl, Annie decides immediately, and looks down on her luck. She begins to rustle through her purse when the girl holds up her middle finger.

Annie gasps, and abandons looking through her purse. "I'm- I'm sorry!" She stammers. "I didn't- I just thought- do- uhm- do you... need help?" Like that makes it any better, Cresta, she scolds herself.

"Because a few dollars will change my life." Johanna drawls, half amused and half just exasperated at the ridiculousness of the woman stood in front of her.

"I'm not homeless anyway, if that's what you mean." Her eyes narrow. "Do I look homeless to you?" She knows she does and she doesn't care in the slightest, but it's at least slightly amusing to see this woman squirm.

Before Annie can stop herself, she winces and nods.

"You, ah, don't look that great," she has to admit. "I just, ah, I want to help...?" Somehow it manages to be a question, hardly obscured by her Irish accent.

"So if you want, ah, maybe a sandwich? Something to drink? Cab fair?"

"Yeah, well, it's what cancers do to you." She obviously doesn't mean the illness, but rather Snow and the Games and all the rest of it. She quickly pulls the hood of her jumper up over her bristly hair. She knows she's a mess; she doesn't need the stares to remind her of what she's been through.

She can't help but snort a laugh again. "A bed, a house, some decent fucking clothes." She shakes her head and laughs humourlessly again. What is this woman even doing? Why's she even stopped? She doesn't even know Johanna.

"Are you getting some sort of weird kick out of this?" She asks, after a moment. "What do you want for the food?"

Annie shifts back and fourth. "Uhm- oh...?" She could get her all of them, if she wanted. Her family was wealthy enough that it wouldn't break the bank. And her grandmother had a very nice place with more than enough space for another person.

But she doesn't know Johanna. What if she's a vampire, even? She had no way of knowing.

"No. I just- I like helping people. Don't want anything in return. I just want to help."

"Right." Johanna scoffs. "Course you do." People just aren't that good, or that kind. She heaves herself to her feet, and approaches Annie. Johanna herself might be small and her baggy clothes certainly don't hide how skinny she is, but somehow, she is as menacing as a six foot, well built man. Once face to face with Annie, she looks the girl up and down, before saying, "Boo!"

And then she laughs, high pitched and mean.

Next to a fire in the middle of a witch festival is a terrible place to brood. Witches don't pay the best attention to their surroundings when they're doing their rituals, but Ghoul's fortunate enough to spot one disaster in the making before it's too late. He steps in and rudely hipchecks an incoming witch off-course, before she has the chance to obliviously twirl right over Johanna.

It earns him the prissiest scoff and the most dramatic storm-away he's ever seen, to which he only rolls his eyes. "They're pretty air-headed when they're witching-out," he says, glancing back down at Johanna. She doesn't look or smell familiar to him, but she's still one of his kind. That makes her instantly superior company. "You're in prime trampling territory."

"They won't know what's hit them if they try." She doesn't look at Ghoul at first, choosing instead to glare at the fire in front of her. When it becomes obvious that he's not going anywhere, she turns to look at him, sizing him up.

After a moment, she snaps, "Johanna. Mason."

Instead of finding the threat off-putting, it makes him grin. "Yeah? Might let the next one run over you, then." Not because he dislikes her or wants to see her inconvenienced, which he explains a moment later by adding, "I just really wanna see one of 'em get straightened the fuck out."

Poor witches. What have they ever done to deserve rude dogs? (Everything, lately.)

He crouches down near her and the fire, taking a careful look at her face now that he's able to more easily. After a few seconds of silence, he shrugs and says, "You don't look like a Johanna." He's a weirdo. Sorry, Johanna. "You here with one of the witches?" As a familiar, he means- and he really, really hopes not, because that would just be weird.

"Do I look like a pet to you?" Johanna's glare is piercing. "Or is Johanna too girly for me?" The idea of bowing down to anybody but her own whims is, at the moment, a sensitive subject. She's only just escaped America and the memories of how she was used as a pawn in Snow's sick games still disgusts her. To think that she would bow down to a witch is laughable, and after a moment, her cackle, high pitched and humourless, echoes around the fire.

"Brilliant. Just brilliant. I've chosen a city where witches think they can keep werewolves on a lead."

She shakes her head. "So, who do you belong to, Tom?" Because two can play this game. "You look like a Tom to me. Bit of a pushover."

"Nah, I don't think anybody looks like they should be a pet," he notes with a touch of bitterness. That shit burns him right up. If they were willing then that'd be one thing, but here lately the discussion hasn't been centered about familiars who have chosen that path for themselves. It's good to know she's not one either way, though. He's not entirely convinced the wolves will be safe once the witches feel like they've gotten the fae out of the way.

"But I meant Johanna sounds kinda plain for you. You don't seem plain." He turns his head, staring in to the fire. "You think I look like a Tom, though? For real? Damn..." Yikes. That's brutal.

Johanna runs a hand through her bristles and barks out a laugh. "I think my mom had hopes of a princess. Shame she got a damn wolf." She shrugs his question away though. "Maybe a Denis. At a push."She smirks. "Course, if you tell me your real name, I am more than happy to insult that too,"

"Look, are you running with a pack here?"

At first, he gives her an odd look- is her mom not also a wolf? But then he's huffing out a laugh. "No way. Think I'll just let you have Tom and call it damage control." It's nothing personal, he never gives anyone his real name. And Ghoul would be way, way too easy for her to use against him.

When she mentions a pack, he nods. "Yeah, why? You lookin' for one?"

Her mum might be a wolf, but her curse certainly isn't activated. Johanna's wouldn't have been, if only for the stupid Hunger Games she was forced to endure.And that, the curse itself, is another item on her long list of reasons why she will never, ever forgive Snow for what he's done to her.

She scowls when he refuses to tell her his name. "Dick. Maybe that's a better name for you."

Johanna snorts again, and stares back at the fire. "Nah. Lone wolf, me. I'm not into packs and brotherhood and all that crap." She pulls at her sleeves, tugging the hems into her balled up fists.

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Test Drive Meme: April-May 2017

Johanna Mason | Hunger Games | Werewolf

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