trainingwings | don't stop me now

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[*] test drive meme

don't stop me now

the luceti test drive meme

Reserves have just opened and apps are right around the corner. But are you still on the fence about any of your would-be characters? Well -- here is your chance to take them out for a spin!

▣ TAG IN or reply to others with characters you would like to test drive for Luceti.
▣ ONLY add top-level comments for characters who are not yet in the game. You're free to reply to others with Luceti characters (because that's half the fun) but remember that the whole point of this meme is for potential characters.
▣ PLEASE do not post duplicates of characters already in Luceti.
▣ GO AHEAD and give us a brief description of your character in the top-level comment, along with one or two possible ways to run into your test-driven character around town.
▣ YOU MAY use these threads for your first person samples on your app -- just make sure that you link threads of a goodly length (i.e., threads with at least ten comments from your character).

Need a little help getting started? Remember, you needn't post here as though your character is still brand-spankin' new. It'll probably be more fun for all involved if this isn't a simple dress rehearsal for showing up. Here are a few scenario ideas:

o1. The grocery store is out of food. What do you do?
o2. Wing injury! Call for help or stagger your way to one of our fine clinics.
o3. It's a busy evening at Good Spirits, one of Luceti's local bars. Do you dare try the drink specials?
o4. Have a talent for playing music? Try Cloud Nine's open mic night!
o5. Beach party? Snow party? Leaf-raking party? Gardening party? YOU DECIDE.

Okay. So my examples are pretty non-exciting. But they're really just suggestions. I'm POSITIVE you kids can come up with more creative things.

Above all? HAVE FUN. Oh. And don't forget to RESERVE your characters.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A.

[It's a draft.

For his part, Floki has actually done a marvellous job at doing what he's supposed to -- chopping enemy limbs and wings until they are incapacitated. Not dead, no. Ragnar says they don't kill them? He won't kill them. Now, they might bleed out. That's on the Malnosso, though. They're taken down and the little device is clicked at the tattoos on their neck, and Floki moves on.

Mostly.

He's currently about five feet from his latest victim, bloody ax still in one hand. With the other, he goes through the fallen cultist's supplies, taking anything that catches his eye.]

B.

[The set-up is fairly simple. Plants are steamed over a fire, charcoal mixed in and ground, a bit of... some kind of gel concoction has been mixed up.

It isn't quite what he makes where he's from, but Floki is satisfied enough with the results in this strange place. He's had to substitute here and there, but the actual mixture seems close enough.

Using the river as a decent reflection, he uses the pad of his thumb to apply the black liquid to his eyelids and a thin, dulled stick to trail it under his eyes.

Much better.]

C.

[Sticks are not logs, but they work for models. He has mastered a boat to take someone across rivers and seas, but these things can always be improved.

So, Floki has several sticks he is carving very carefully with a knife, affixing them with little pieces of metal as he makes his model, checking every angle with nearly each addition. This one doesn't need to be quite what his last creation was. The design he is now shaping (perfecting, really, he's used something similar often enough) is meant mostly for rivers, to navigate the paths of water this village has to offer.

That will be a great boon to Ragnar in the fall and to himself, as well, with coming to town.]

Are you hurt at all? [Elizabeth is a few feet away, blood down her front, a rough bag with a red cross on the side in her hand. She's been playing the part of the battlefield medic--one that didn't need an escort.]

[With all that limb chopping, it's hard to tell if the man is actually injured, or just very enthusiastic. Better to ask than walk right on by, though.]

Not even a scratch. [He gives a toothy grin, tilting his head. When he notices his arm. And blood that is definitely his.] Well, maybe a scratch. But not a bad one.

[All limbs attached, head on firm. Really, at the end of the day, for a viking, anything else is minor. Though he does look quite disappointed as he nudges the body with the toe of his boot.]

Don't carry much on them. That's a shame. But! [He perks up, grin back, at another thought.] There's probably a camp nearby.

[Elizabeth arches an eyebrow at the man. He's bleeding and smiling about it. It's a little unhinged in Elizabeth's opinion, but it's not her job to comment on the mental soundness of men who hacked people's limbs off with axes.]

I have bandages. And-- [She goes into her med bag and pulls out something that looks pretty close to an apple.] --I pulled this off of one of them. If you're going to keep going, you'll need this.

's not bad enough to need a bandage. [People here are so worried about little injuries. Floki doesn't get it. But, well, he won't argue with them too much.

The apple, though, is interesting.] What is it? [So hoping it's more than just food. After all, some things are weird here. So maybe it's something actually valuable that will make this raid worth it.]

Papercuts don't need bandages. If you got that from a weapon, it needs a bandage. And some antiseptic. [She lobs the apple at the man.] But that will help some. It's an apple, eat it.

[Weird about injuries and weird about food. He's just weird. Who didn't know what an apple was?]

[An apple. Boring. He'd hoped it'd be something that just looked like an apple. Never know in this place.

But Floki knows better than to argue.

She wants to bandage him up, fine. It's an exercise in futility since he still has lots more cultists to butcher and tag, but if it makes her feel better, fine.

So, as he's eating the apple, he sits down, unbothered by his closeness to the still-living but badly injured cultist and holds out his arm.]

[Elizabeth looks a little concerned by the proximity to an injured cultist. People in tight places tended to get desperate and dangerous, but Elizabeth isn't going to tell the man to move. She's already bossed him into accepting medical help and an apple.]

[She edges gingerly towards him, watching the injured cultist very closely, before settling down and opening her bag.] Some reason you're keeping him alive?

We're supposed to. I don't get it, but Malnosso said we are, and Ragnar wants to go along with what they want, so. [He shrugs. It makes no difference to him whether they live or die.

He holds up the scanner.] Take 'em down, push this little button after you line up the light with the tattoo on their neck. Doesn't make sense to me, but... That's what they want.

Yeah, I know what the objective is. [She pulls out a pad of gauze and pours some rubbing alcohol onto it. The cut doesn't look too bad, but it doesn't look impervious to infection to her.]

But you took his arm off. He's going to die soon anyway. Keeping him alive at this point is just cruel.

[The wince Floki gives is a small one, just a reaction to the sting. It's not too bad, a lot like the balms and ointments he's used to.]

Then they better collect him fast, shouldn't they? [He shrugs.]

The gods know already. If he's supposed to be captured, he will. If he's supposed to die, he'll do that instead.

[Somehow, Elizabeth isn't so convinced that God knows already. It's true though, he'll either be captured and rescued here, or die here. Elsewhere, who knows.]

Do you always trust that a higher power knows what should happen? [She tosses the gauze away and starts fishing for a bandage. The question isn't hostile or accusatory, but this talk of choices and forks in the road is making her nervous.]

The gods know every man's fate, but you have to work for it. They won't just hand it to you, especially if you're supposed to be great.

[He smiles, looking at her.]

That's the trick, you see. You don't know what they've got written for you-- at least, most people don't. So you have to try for what you want, and they'll reward you with what you've shown them you've earned.

[Elizabeth's expression turns a little complicated, as though she's trying to work this out and reconcile it with the things she's seen. ...and the things she's opened up and stepped through.]

[She looks back down at the wound and starts wrapping it.] Sounds like there's two plans then--one for if you work for it, and the other happens if you don't. Guess you always have to have a backup plan.

The gods have their ways, if they want something to happen. And they have their favorites they take care of. [He's still smiling, quite happy with this conversation. Any discomfort she might be feeling, he isn't acknowledging.]

Greatness doesn't fall into anyone's hands, but if someone's meant to be great? The gods will make sure he manages it. Now, he's stubborn? They can take a lot away, drive him to the moment where he will be great.

And their favorites they torment, probably. [Elizabeth focuses intently on the wrapping, trying to direct her mind elsewhere. But all she can think of is that moment when Comstock had known he had been brought to that moment of potential greatness. And then everything was stripped away piece by piece. But what kind of god would allow the destruction that Comstock caused, just to watch him fall?]

[Thinking about why is making her slightly dizzy. She finishes wrapping the bandage and fishes around in her bag some more.] What's your name?

Some of the gods are not so kind, it is true. [It's said with blissful ease. Men suffer, of course. Haraldson, for one. But that was the price of greatness, so far as he saw. It could not come easily; the gods would have no use of great men if they were fashioned out of dried mud.

They had to endure the flames to be truly great, hammered like a sword made by the best of blacksmith's. And some -- most -- would eventually destroy themselves. Usually when they became too confident that the gods would always be on their side.

She asks his name, and he lets the subject drop.] Floki. And you are?

Floki? [Elizabeth grins--it's the strangest name she's ever heard, to be certain. But with all these different worlds coming together, she should get used to people with odd names.]

I'm Elizabeth. [A handkerchief and another bottle of rubbing alcohol come out of the bag, so she can clean herself up after handling Floki's bandaging.] Where and when are you from?

I'm from Norway. [He smiles.] In the first year of Jarl Ragnar, after Jarl Haraldson. [Well, it's as specific as he can get, really.]

And you... Elizabeth? [To him, it's a strange name. Stranger than he usually hears. It sounds Christian. But he'll try not to hold that against her.

Too much.]

[Well, it sounds Christian because it is. Ostentatiously so. But what else could be expected from someone like the Mighty Prophet Himself?]

I'm from, ah, it's hard to describe I guess... But I've heard of Norway! [She tilts her head, looking very intently at Floki's face and then his axe.] Oh!! [She exclaims it as though she's just put two concepts together that hadn't been matching up quite right, fist smacking her palm. Have a pointing finger too, Floki.]

Are you a viking? Or just a... Norwegian man with an axe? [Who was completely fine violently hacking off people's limbs and sitting next to them, and then complaining about the lack of things to steal... It's kind of a shot in the dark, but Elizabeth hasn't come across any other representations of Scandinavian people in her library. And she sure doesn't know who Jarl Haraldson is--though she sort of wishes she did now. Might give her a clue.]

Ah, I am. [He grins again, tilting his head to observe her carefully.

She's not from their land or possibly their time. Those sorts of strange things happen here, he's found. But she knows of the vikings, knows where they're from. The gods have let them leave a legacy, then.

That's good to know.]

Wow... [Elizabeth takes him in again. When she had first arrived in Luceti, there were so many things that she'd only read about that she finally saw up-close. Though she hadn't thought that she could meet people she had read about. Why not, though? She could do stranger things.]

...sorry, I just. I'm a little strange. [She remembers she's holding a handkerchief with rubbing alcohol and keeps awkwardly cleaning her hands.] I've spent almost all my life in the same few rooms. Reading, mostly. So the past few weeks have been like seeing the sky for the first time after being told stories about it for years.

That, I can't imagine. Missing the open air, the sky, the sea. [Floki grins as he stands, putting his axe by his side.]

Come, we will move on, and you will tell me the things you have read. [It's friendly enough... and there's no fighting or anything to claim as his here now, so that meant it's time to move on. Time to find new enemies. And perhaps new loot.]

You know, after I escaped, I didn't know how I lived without being outside. I guess I still don't know. [She sticks the handkerchief she's been cleaning up with into her bag and closes it, standing up with Floki.]

I'll talk about what I've read--I could talk for ages. But only if you tell me about the ocean. [She grins up at him. The ocean, that is something she hasn't seen. A fake one floating in the sky, sure. But Elizabeth imagines the real thing is vastly more impressive.]

Have you ever been to France? Or-- [She frowns and thinks. What would Floki know it as?] Or, um... Gaul? [That's probably way too far back, but she really can't get a date on when Floki is from.]

We have been to England, but I have not heard of Gaul or France, I am afraid.

[Then, he laughs, and a peevish smile comes across his face.] Ah, no. No. Tell me of what you've read. I won't say a word about the ocean.

[He waits for a few moments. Just enough to let her (he assumes) get worried or angry or upset.

He likes to rile people.

Then, another laugh, and he announces, his voice low and hushed, eyes intense, like he's revealing a great secret:] When we return to the village, I will take you there. I've a boat. One that goes in rivers just as good as the sea. Nothing you hear will compare to seeing it, I think.

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tearmeanewone - 2013-04-22 06:44 (UTC) - Expand

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don't stop me now

Floki - Vikings

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