Viva La Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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vivalaooc2024-07-31 09:00 pm
vivalamods) wrote in vivalaooc2024-07-31 09:00 pm
Entry tags:
TDM #2
TEST DRIVE #2
The day begins as any other, you’re going about your day, living your life, when, without warning, you feel the world around you shift on its axis. You feel a great tear, welling from the depths of your soul as you are ripped from all you have known. If you’re lucky, you arrive in the wilderness of an unfamiliar world, where the language is foreign and the people are hostile. To make your escape, you must learn some language, flee, and occasionally fight, all to find your way off the floating isles you find yourself on and to the great ocean below, where rebel forces will welcome you.
If you’re unlucky, you materialize within a room full of armed guards and are quickly subdued with charged nets, stripped of your belongings, fitted with strange devices that suppress your powers and pressed into servitude. Your days are unimaginable pain and toil.
Fortunately, even in this world, there is still hope. For the denizens of this world have not given up. And it is for that dream of salvation that the Crimson Corsairs raise their flags and sail - for liberation. Perhaps you are one who has lived their entire life under the oppressive yoke of the Empire. Perhaps you have seen first hand your family and friends cut down by nobles hunting men for sport, or perhaps you have run afoul with the church and barely escaped with your life. No matter your origin, the Corsairs sail for you, for your freedom, for your life. And today, a taste of freedom will be won for all.
ARRIVAL/LIBERATION
The Corsairs are flush with victory over the Hesaeth labor camp. A mining operation formerly under control of the Empire, this strategic victory will give the Corsairs access to desperately needed materials to build weapons and war machines. The former members of the labor camp are being quickly evacuated - packed onto ships and taken to the floating city of Flotsam for a hot meal and integration into the broader organization.
Many of the prisoners were armed ahead of the fight and took part in the rebellion themselves, while many others were whisked away by rescuers so their injuries could be treated. The mines were a harsh life, but for now, at least, the former workers are free. The mess hall of Flotsam rings out in merriment as the new arrivals are fed and clothed, but for those who took part in the fighting, they may do well to seek out their assigned berths… assuming they can find much of anything. Flotsam is many things, but organized and constant it is not.
THE TRIALS AHEAD
With the Hesaeth mining camp now under Corsair control, the arduous task of staffing and defending it now falls to them. Engineers and tacticians are convening in the Vault to discuss matters and make plans. Staff assignments, escape routes, potentially rigging the entire site with explosives, nothing is off the table. The Corsairs know that their victory will be short-lived, the Empire can crush a static operation with the full might of their army should they so choose. But so long as they hold it, the Corsairs must plan to use it. And when the time comes that the Empire attacks, they must do everything in their power to get as many people as they can out alive.
Scholars are going to be especially busy as schematics are being passed through the building. Every ounce of knowledge stored in the Vault’s considerable archive is being turned to this project, so meetings are frequent between committees and subcommittees as the Corsairs quickly and (mostly) efficiently prepare and execute a plan to secure the site and get it operational in short order.
AIRBORNE ASSAULT
The next mission is already being planned, and what scholars and tacticians can be spared from the massive effort of turning the Hesaeth mining camp into a viable operation have been tapped to plan the next mission - a daring attack on a VIP’s airship escort. The Corsairs are still determining how they want to approach the attack, but one thing is certain - they will need means to attack the airborne fleet before it arrives on Elysium’s soil.
With the miniscule amount of airships in the Corsair fleet, the Corsairs must carefully plan their troop placement and plan of attack. Gliders are already being churned out of the Vault’s lower workshops to support the boarding crew. Whether they sink or capture the airships, the attack crew will need everything it can get.
Beyond that, those who are preparing to take part in the operation are getting a crash course in ship combat. Glider usage will be critical, so glider lessons are taking place in Flotsam, and those who don’t have experience on airships will get to be taken up - best they get their air legs now and upend the contents of their stomach BEFORE the operation. Those hoping to fight will be spending their time flying up in the airship and using their gliders to return to Flotsam below.
FESTIVAL OF GAMES
In the waning days of summer, the world used to celebrate the changing of seasons and the start of the harvest with games, feats of skill, and banquets. While the Empire has mercilessly crushed all these old festivals, the Corsairs have managed to preserve the traditions and carry them forward.
Across the three cities, competitions are happening. In Vault, indoor competitions are held in large underground arenas set up specifically for these festivals. In Flotsam, there are chaotic boat races, swimming contests, spearfishing competitions and other such aquatic endeavors. Even Elysium is observing a hunt festival where people cull monsters and try to bring home the most game, although much of it will be siphoned off by the Empire. Spirits are high, good cheer is had by all, and the grog is flowing freely for any Corsairs who might want to participate or spectate.
WILDCARD
Have an idea for your own prompt? Feel free to make any prompt that you think would fit!
OOC
Welcome to the Second Test-Drive Meme for Viva La! All threads here may be considered canon once characters have entered the game. Threads here are eligible for use as a roleplay sample for applications, which will open on the 5th of August at midnight.
code credit
Junia | Darkest Dungeon | AU
The emblem adorning Junia’s armor, as well as the book of scriptures hanging by her side, is not one that is terribly welcome among the Corsairs. The symbol of the Divine is associated with control and discrimination against all the Empire considers unsightly.
But when someone steps in to take a blow meant for you, or to blast holy light at Imperial soldiers (or that failing: bashing them with a big heavy mace), or to heal your wounds with a gentle touch, maybe the exact heraldry she’s wearing isn’t the first thing on your mind.
-2: Liberation-
The imposing figure clad in steel and light from the battle looks distinctly less intimidating now. Junia, when she wasn’t full of fire and brimstone, looked like someone who was used to making herself look smaller than she actually was, and also incredibly out of place in a crowded feasting hall.
She eyed her mug of grog dubiously, doing her level best to put up with being jostled by the rowdy people around her. So this was what parties were like out here, was it? In the convent she grew up in, a “party” was when the mother superior let her charges have a mug of watered down sacramental wine and sing a few of the less somber hymns together. And if they were lucky, a dinner with actual meat in it!
“Well,” she mused out loud, “if I am to be part of this, I may as well attempt to fit in.”
She took a healthy chug of her drink, or at least she tried to. It burned going down, and Junia was immediately overcome by a coughing fit.
-3: Airborne Assault-
Junia had one main concern about the gliders. It wasn’t that she was afraid of heights. She was, but that was a fear she could conquer if she put her mind to it. It wasn’t that she felt bad about harming Imperials. She had seen, an lived through, some of their worst atrocities, and had decided they deserved no more mercy than they gave.
No, it was a more practical concern. The delicate construction of wood and canvas looked extremely…fragile. And Junia was a pretty big girl.
“I’m not going to have to strip off my armor, am I? I can scarce believe something like this could hold me up even if I were naked.”
2.
He was never much of a partier back home, either.
It seems that the young woman next to him is much the same, at least at first glance. At her coughing, Ko starts a little, knocked from his reverie. He turns to her, clear concern painted over his features.
In English at first, "Are you okay? Ah ... Mm."
It's a frustrated look, just for a moment. Japanese wasn't met well, either.
He offers her his cup. Water inside, since he's a bit of a lightweight himself, and getting inebriated with a roomful of strangers seems like a recipe for disaster.
Attempting a little German, "Water. Good for you."
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Scratch that, the last one sounded ALMOST intelligible. Like a different dialect of Varscheinian. Something about drinking, maybe?
Oh. He was offering her water.
Junia took the offered cup and said “thank you.” Before taking a sip.
Airborne Assault
They missed having a spell focus, rather than fussing with odds and ends for their spells that needed them. Sure, they could try to re-dedicate one, but it was the principle of the matter.
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She still doubted that any mage willingly working for the Corsairs was any good.
But then, she herself was a mage now, of sorts, and here she was. She couldn’t entirely discount the idea.
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"But, you can practice without armor. At first."
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That it was time for the lengthy process of removing the suit of half-plate she wore over her robes. It’s not like they were going to be attacked here.
While she worked at that, she spoke up. “I’m Junia, by the way.”
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Which was hundreds of miles from here, but in this dimension. She had just slightly misunderstood the question.
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Stupid question. If they were they wouldn’t have asked like that!
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For some reason I never got a motif for this tag
The plates were off. Next, Junia started struggling with her gambeson.
No worries.
"Do you want help with that?"
2
...Well, that and he's picked up a flagon of the dubious grog to bring up to his room later. But nevertheless, he IS operating in his capacity as a healer, and a coughing fit naturally draws his attention.
"Er, are you alright?" he asks, approaching the source of the noise. It's hardly the first coughing fit he's heard this evening, but he should probably check.
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“By the Divine, what a foul brew!” She declared, once she felt like she hadn’t drunk sandpaper. “People drink this on purpose?”
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Rezo waits patiently for Junia's coughing fit to calm down. It takes him a moment for the oath to register as remotely odd, and he belatedly blinks at it. He'd gotten used to hearing references to the Divine in the time he's been is Esthere, but since joining with the Corsairs it's become less common- no doubt due to the general opinion of the Corsairs on the Church of the Divine. But there are still things people default to saying when they stub their toes, get snuck up on, or perhaps down a drink that is over fifty-seven percent alcohol by volume.
"Its flavor isn't a selling point, but it's very efficient at intoxicating anyone who drinks it. I suggest you have plenty of food and water with it if you wish to mitigate the effects somewhat."
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For a moment, Junia actually considered the implications. She had never been really drunk before, and was curious what it was like.
…but no. She was surrounded largely by strangers, right now. Getting drunk in these circumstances felt like a risky move. She sighed slightly and stood up. “I suppose I had better get something to eat, then.”
She sized up Rezo as she did. WS he blind, perhaps? He kept his eyes closed, at least. “…can I get you anything as long as I’m up?”
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"Hm?" Oh, yes. Food for himself. He is planning on doing something about the sobriety situation, but it would probably be sensible to follow his own advice and not drink on an empty stomach. Not to mention the fact it's been a long day. "If you're sure it wouldn't trouble you. I'm not particular about food."
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Junia vanished into the crowd, then came back some minutes later. She bore two bowls of steaming hot porridge, flavored with bacon.
“There weren’t a lot of options. Just this and more grog. I hope it’s okay.”
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Upon her return he accepts the bowl gratefully, with a smile. "Of course. It's certainly better than what they served at the labor camps." It's warm, for one thing. And he can smell the bacon- meat like this certainly wasn't something there'd been much of.