trainingwings | (no subject)

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[*] test drive meme

(no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're lucky I'm from Ontario and not Quebec or you'd be in one hell of a heated battle right now. It's not fake-French, by the way; it's different French.

Fake French, different French- I am from Normandy, not Paris. We accuse Parisians of being false Frenchman just as much.

Normundie? I thought you guys spoke like... Nordic or something.

We are just as French as Parisians. Simply less fussy, with a greater appreciation for the sea than fashion.

I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. Are Normandy-French as prone to rolling their eyes as you?

I do not roll my eyes. I sneer. Sneering is terribly French, I'm certain you're aware.

I wouldn't know. I've only ever met the fake kind.

Well now you may die happy, since you have met an honest Frenchwoman.

[Woops. He actually loses the smile for a moment there... but it quickly returns.]

Dying, huh? Nope. Not going to be happening for a long time.

Here, one never knows. Aad even if you do die, you're back within the week, courtesy of our minders. They cannot very well run their experiments or have us fight their war if we die on them now, can they?

...

[He gives her an honestly sad look, dropping the jokester front for a minute.]

You really mean that, don't you? That this is a cage or immortality for the sake of poking and prodding. Looks nice but isn't honestly that great.

That kind of thing?

...

[She drops the nonchalance as well. This, this was the hardest part to come to grips with when one was new to the village. And she is the worst to explain it but...she'll try to be fair.]

You sill age. You can still be hurt, become ill, become maimed, and not always by the experiments. No one has been here long enough to die of old age as of yet but...

We arrive in the world for reasons no one can explain. We are put in the enclosures by the Malnosso. They provide the journals, the wings, and the buildings where we reside. Food, clothing, personal effects, weaponry, shelter- everything you could ever want.

But freedom. We do not belong here. And yet, here we are.

The guide elaborates on this but. That is the gist of it. We are draftees and guinea pigs. Test subjects. We even have our own serial numbers.

[She turns and tips her head forward, lifting her hair. Allowing him to see the crisp, black barcode tattooed at the nape of her neck.]

[He's thoughtful a moment about the whole thing, but then he smiles, throwing himself to the grass and inhaling deeply. The smell of fresh, fertile earth beneath him and, as he rolled over, the beautiful blue sky above. It was hard to be upset about his cage considering it was so much nicer than the former one he inhabited.]

You know what? I think, in the long run, I'll prefer it here. I can't die of aging because I don't age and if I revive here over and over, it'll still be better than not having anyone to go back to.

I mean, there are plenty of other Night Arrows doing the job I did. It just saves on the messy business of Echo-Phasing and I'm good.

What did you say your name was again?

...

[Now? Now she is dead certain he is the strangest new feather she has ever met. Fr a long moment she stares down at him, puzzled, and then just. Sighs. It only goes to prove that some people are, after all, better off here. All things considered, she is as well.

Sixty seconds can go by so very quickly, after all.]

There's a penalty, when you die. You lose something. A sense. A memory. Something. For four months. Die within those four months, you get another penalty. And you don't even know about the experiments they've put us through, or what it is like on the drafts. But.

I suppose you've come from some kind of hell all your own, to prefer it here.

[A beat.]

Adele. Doctor Adele LeBlanc.

Doctor Adele LeBlanc.

[He smiles up at her from the grass.]

You want to know about my hell or do you want to lie in the grass and pretend there haven't been any penalties and that you don't have a barcode or something? Because seriously. It's nice grass all things considered. And it just smells great.

...You are. Without question or the barest shadow of a doubt, the strangest New Feather I have met.

[She's curious enough to want to ask. But tired enough of every shade of hell to just. Lay down in the grass next to him and rest awhile. He was right, after all. It was nice grass. Soft, not clipped or cut so it didn't poke or cause one to itch. There weren't any insects that would crawl or bite. Just.

Grass. It's almost ideal.]

It's easy for me to forget how lovely it can be here.

It's Michael Andrews, not New Feather. Sheesh, Addie, give me a break.

[He reclines.]

Don't have this where I'm from. Imagine New York if it spanned the planet with about eight times the population. And it's always a Monday. And rush hour. And no one wants to go to work.

Now throw in Spirits, Ghosts and Echoes... oh man...

I miss lying in the grass.

Michael, then. New Feather is a term for new members of the village. Not a name proper-

[She twitches at the nickname. Sighs. Scrubs her face with a hand and props herself up on an elbow to look over at him.]

...Please don't call me that. My ex husband did, for years, and it holds no fond memories for me.

[It's civil if restrained. Fairly polite, compared to how it might have been months, years ago. Once she's certain he understands she slides back down, comfortable in the grass.]

What is the difference between the three?

A dick, huh? Yeah. Lots of them in the world, sadly. I'm sure someone like you will eventually either find a good guy or at least make sure the rotten ones don't try what they tried with you a second time. Men like that aren't men at the end of the day. Just boys acting tough. Drives me nuts.

[He pauses.]

A Spirit is what is left of you when you die. It retains your memories and all of the emotions you've accumulated throughout your life. The older you are, the more memories, the more judgement weighed upon you. At the same time, the younger you are, the fewer the memories, but at the same time the emotions are so much more powerful.

A Ghost is what a Spirit becomes if it realizes it's dead. Ghosts can "live" if you will in the Land of the Dead if they're not ready to move on. They can get jobs in the hundreds of sorting bureaus or, if they're rotten, get sent to prison. And let me tell you, maximum security prisons on isolated islands have nothing on the prisons in the land of the dead.

An Echo...

[He winces, suddenly putting a hand to his head.]

Hff... sorry. Echoes have different classes.. but lemme explain what they are. If a Ghost loses control of its emotions through rage or despair or any number of negative feelings, it has a high chance of becoming a C-Class Echo, a twisted version of what it once was, no mind, only emotion... and they mutate based on the memories that brought forth the emotion. Awful, horrible things.

Then, there's a B-Class Echo, known as a Spirit-Echo. When A Spirit realizes it's dead, it becomes a Ghost... usually. Sometimes there are people... usually kids... who can't handle being dead. Their emotions go out of control in denial, rage, sadness, and they become B-Class Echoes. B-Class Echoes are much stronger than C-Class Echoes and are usually a lot bigger with a more devastated spiritual attack. Some of them can actually absorb other Ghosts and other Spirits into themselves to grow bigger.

Finally, A-Class Echoes, or Cluster Echoes. When people die together in a group, the collective energy sometimes isn't able to separate properly into a group of Spirits for sorting due to the high level of emotion and memories flitting from Spirit to Spirit. The overall panic and confusion can create not just one Echo, but many, all at once... and then they merge to form a collective Cluster Echo. Cluster Echoes are enormous both in actuality and in their attack strength. They're also capable of affecting the minds of those around them just by existing due to the turmoil they possess. Cluster Echoes form in war, in car accidents like buses exploding, in buildings collapsing... any place where tens, hundreds or thousands of people die all at once, Cluster Echoes will result.

I hadn't been hired as a Night Arrow at the time, but apparently some of the worst Echoes of all time came out of the shit around WWII. The most recent Cluster Echo emergency came from 9/11. That's not to say there haven't been bad crop-ups of Cluster Echoes since... but the panic and shock of that day was pretty much a guarantee for them.

[He sighs heavily, looking at her.]

That help?

...

[That. All of that. Was horrifying on no small level. Adele sinks into the grass and just. Attempts to wrap her mind around the concepts Michael puts forth and finds that she can't. Just the idea of a city based land of the dead is entirely foreign to her. Ghosts? Echos? Clusters of souls that die terribly and react violently upon their arrival elsewhere?

There's nothing she can say. Well.

One thing.]

...I think. I am correct in my assessment that this place is much, much better than your hell Michael. And I shan't begrudge your enjoyment of it in the slightest.

You know what I think? I think any place you're stuck in without a choice, no matter how pretty, ain't right. Even if it's better.

It's not the place we need to be. I have a responsibility back where I'm from. To be honest, won't it make it harder to go back if we're stuck in a place like this?

...you don't remember your time here whenever you return. And. You return to the precise moment in time from whence you were pulled. No matter what it was you were doing. It will be as if you were never here. So...I cannot say if it is better or worse to remain.

I only know that we shouldn't be here.

..well, if we don't remember it... then I guess the best thing is to have as much fun as you can.

Even if it's the guilty kind.

[He laughs.]

...is that one of your English Innuendos?

Huh? Oh, uh... not intentionally! I just kind of meant we could do stupid things and not act our age. But if you're up for a roll in the grass you could do better than me anyway.