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vivalaooc2024-05-31 08:15 pm
vivalamods) wrote in vivalaooc2024-05-31 08:15 pm
Entry tags:
Test Drive Meme #1
TEST DRIVE #1
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
This month, the Crimson Corsairs raided a Larendt labor camp in order to obtain much-needed parts and textiles as well as liberate another batch of servants for the cause. The raid was executed under the cover of night, with one team sweeping the dormitories and gathering as many servants as they could while the other team hit factories as they could, focusing on taking important items like ship parts and clothing, loading them into prepared trams and fleeing before the guard could mobilize. The operation, thankfully, went off without a hitch, and the Corsairs were able to usher a number of servants into their waiting ships.
As dawn breaks, the raiding fleet docks at Flotsam as the city-fleet begins the long journey away from the continent before a retaliation fleet can be mobilized. The former servants are finally let above deck. The sun is beating down hard on them, its brilliance marking their first step into freedom.
Corsairs on the fleet will have a lot to do - the new arrivals will need to be sorted, clothed, and fed. Many are emaciated from the conditions in the labor camp, and the former servants will be immediately ushered to a mess hall for their first meal as free folk. Corsairs will be needed to organize the movement, prepare and serve the food, and also just sit with them and talk to them, helping them adjust and filling them in on the situation.
Former servants will have found the entire process exhausting to say the least. They were awoken in the dead of night by heavily armed people quickly moving through, shattering their chains and ushering them into ships. The entire night was spent sailing, and while the hull is dark it is crowded and difficult to sleep in. Finally, upon arrival they are ushered into a meal hall and served a humble meal - but a meal that far exceeds anything that was ever served at the servant’s table. What is known is that they are now free.
MEANWHILE IN THE WATERLOGGED ROW…
With another successful mission under their belt and their duties more or less complete, the triumphant Corsairs observe a time-honored tradition: heading to the Waterlogged Row and getting absolutely shitfaced on awful grog.
The mood is jubilant and self-congratulatory, with drinking songs ringing out across Flotsam. In consideration to other residents, the Row is currently moored a good distance from the residential areas to keep the celebrations from disturbing what little peace there is in the chaotic town that is Flotsam. But for those who participated in the mission, tonight is about celebration. Singing, storytelling, socializing, this is the glue that holds the operations team together. And as the Crimson Corsairs do not officially recognize a drinking age, everyone is welcome! Even if they probably shouldn’t be!
New arrivals are, of course, not at all restricted so those who finish their meal and go exploring will quickly find the Row, as well as many Corsairs eager to buy them a pint to toast their newfound freedom.
MAKING THE GOOD STUFF
Elysium often serves as the crux of Corsair operations, and the next operation is no different. While the operations team is carousing and toasting their success, the planning team is hard at work preparing for the next mission.
The order of the day is gathering, which has brought the team to the forests outside of Elysium. In the coming month, Elysium will host a lavish party for the guards of a certain continent, and it is the duty of the gatherers to ensure that any drink served is “enhanced”, with such potency that they won’t be in any position to do their duty when the raiders strike.
Any herbology specialists will be absolutely vital for this operation. While the Corsairs have some documents and know, generally, what they’re looking for, there are a wide variety of things that grow within the forest, many of which can be quite dangerous.
Those new to gathering will really need to watch their step. Elysium is rich in hallucinogens, and a whiff of the wrong flower or mushroom could leave them contemplating their navel for the next hour. Tasting is out of the question, but what they don’t know can’t hurt them right? After all, the Elysium workers spend a lot of time eradicating poisoned growths to keep wandering nobles safe so anything they find can’t be THAT bad. Right?
And of course, for experienced foragers, they will find an entirely new duty thrust upon them - keeping the newbies in line. Really, how can they expect anything productive to be done when they send a bunch of green recruits into a forest full of hallucinogens?
EDUCATION AS THE BOMBS FALL
New Corsairs almost always find themselves in the Vault. Nestled in the earth and subject to the constant pounding of munitions overhead, the Vault is the repository of knowledge for the Crimson Corsairs and the place where new inductees are educated. Language instruction, education on the world and its people, writing, reading, arithmetic, just about any kind of learning can be done in the Vault’s halls.
Notable about the Vault’s education is how deeply tied it is to the Crimson Corsair’s broader philosophy - everyone’s unique talents and insight have value. As such, Corsairs are often called to the Vault to share their specialized expertise. While many Corsairs do choose to become full-time teachers, any Corsair can come and teach a class.
For the new Corsairs, now is a time to learn and train, acclimate themselves to their situation and figure out where they want to go from here. For established Corsairs, this is an opportunity to meet the new recruits and help train them so they can help with the cause. Those who might be students today will be comrades standing at your side tomorrow, so teach them well.
DANGER AT SEA
As the most mobile of the Corsair’s settlements and the only obvious Imperial target, Flotsam is well equipped to deal with any number of dangers. One such danger is the enormous sea monsters who dwell within the Eternal Ocean. While many are not too keen to tangle with such a large fleet, occasionally a monster will become angry or territorial enough to try to attack the fleet.
And it is for that reason that the Corsairs now find themselves battling a massive sea serpent that has stretched itself across the western edge of the fleet. New Corsairs aren’t expected to assist in this battle, but as the sinking of Flotsam would be VERY BAD for those who are currently trying to live on it, many will jump in anyway, especially as they should have been issued weapons. As to established Corsairs, well, you know the drill by now. Monster bad, try to sink ship, let’s convince it that there are easier marks than the pride of the Corsair fleet.
Some Corsairs will need to man the cannons to blow it away, but many will get up close and personal, jumping into melee range to drive it away from the ships and mitigate as much damage as they can. Others still will provide support from the back with magic or ranged weaponry, and still others will need to weave their way in between the battle to carry out wounded Corsairs for medical attention. Whatever your specialty, your city needs you. Best get to work.
WILDCARD
Have an idea for your own prompt? Feel free to make any prompt that you think would fit!
OOC
Welcome to the first 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 15th of June at midnight.
Ziel of the Wastelands | Cradle | AU
Ziel, lost in a world that wasn't his own, sat down and stared at a fern.
Had he ever really considered a fern before? It was a fern more than anything else could possibly be a fern. It existed in a whole world of being a fern that he could never imagine. There was an infinite amount of subtleties and texture to being a fern that he had never considered before this moment. What must it be like, he wondered, to be a fern? To think fern-y thoughts and see the world from a fern's viewpoint? Ziel was suddenly struck by an incomprehensible feeling of the vastness of difference between his own perception of the universe and that of the fern's.
Ziel explored an infinite world of alien viewpoints in an internal world he could scarcely comprehend, while in the real world he sat on the ground and stared at a fern for twenty minutes without moving. Those spores had REALLY done a number to him.
-2: Waterlogged Row-
Ziel had hoped for a quiet drink and instead found a tavern full of drunken hooligans. He settled for a quiet corner that he hoped no one would bother him in while he slowly dissolved his brain in alcohol.
Unfortunately, nature called before he got more than mildly buzzed. As he returned from the facilities to his seat, Ziel bumped into someone. He muttered "Sorry."
Bumping into Ziel is like bumping into a cargo ship. He has a sense of inevitability and mass about him that's hard to overcome. He's a big guy, but even beyond that you're as likely to knock him over as you are to knock over an iron post set in cement. More likely (especially if you've been drinking a bit) he just sent you tumbling onto your ass.
-3: Danger at Sea-
Ziel sat, staring at the horizon and trying not to feel sick to his stomach. He felt the best when his feet were on solid ground, not on the pitching deck of a ship. Pitching more than usual, perhaps...
When the sea serpent appeared, Ziel sunk deeper into his spot and thought that explains all the rocking. He was tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of hurting. Tired of being tired. Someone else could deal with this. There were plenty of other fighters in Flotsam and they didn't need that and why was he suddenly feeling so wet?
Ziel realized, after the fact, that he had just instinctively leapt to his feet to bring his massive warhammer around in a brutal swing that had stopped a loop of sea serpent from knocking someone off the deck of the ship while also sending a spray of blood from ruptured scales in a circle around the point of impact.
Immediately, his muscles screamed in agony. Ether flowed through him to reinforce his body, but that also caused flows of agony, like his blood had been replaced with a sea of glass splinters. Despite the agony, Ziel felt good about it, for a moment.
Huh.
Apparently he wasn't QUITE ready to just roll over and let someone else die quite yet.
"Are you alright?"
-999: Wildcard-
Or make up your own prompt for a depressed, disabled monster hunter!
Good Stuff
All this is to excuse the simple fact that Rezo, while he was trying to look for herbs, has accidentally poked Ziel in the thigh with the end of the long cane he's using to navigate.
"Oh-"
After stifling his initial startle, Rezo's quick to offer an apologetic "Pardon me."
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It was hard to concentrate on this world when he could feel every object around him glowing with the potential of an infinite internal world, but he found he could do it if he focused.
A man was talking to him. His eyes were closed, and he had a cane. Blind, perhaps? Ziel felt like a genius for making such a difficult intuitive jump in his current state.
“…Don’t worry about it.”
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"Are you alright?" Rezo crouches, trying to get closer to eye level with Ziel, even if he can't actually make eye contact. "What are you doing down here?"
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Despite being distracted by an infinity of infinities, Ziel’s brain kicked into first gear. With great effort, he managed to compare his current mental state to his normal one.
“I think…I feel strange.”
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However, if Rezo said any of this out loud he suspected the two of them would be there all day. So he offered his healer's judgment of the situation instead:
"I do believe you're high."
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"I think you're right."
Now that he sluggishly thought back, he did recall warning about the nature of the plants in this forest that he had probably not paid enough attention to. Honestly, he didn't feel bad right now, but he did recognize that he was impaired while he actually did have a task. The immeasurable peace of exploring higher planes of mental infinity was replaced by mild annoyance that he hadn't noticed what was happening himself. He flopped backwards onto the ground and stared at the trees overhead, which now that he was aware of what was going on, did look to be moving in suspiciously symmetrical ways he probably wouldn't be able to see while sober.
"Well, I guess I'm not going to be very useful for this mission. This is embarrassing."
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It did not seem that this man was in any real distress, but as he pointed out this also wasn't conducive to what they were supposed to be doing. After a brief hesitation, Rezo offered. "If you like, I could cast a-"
Wait. Rezo paused. He'd been speaking Imperial for the past few years now, but it was still not his first language, and there were times he needed to translate things on his own.
"-Cast an unpoisoning spell," he finally finished.
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In his addled state, it took Ziel an extra second or two to come to the extremely obvious conclusion.
"Antidote." He supplied the Imperial word.
Then, after another moment of wandering thoughts he added on: "Yes."
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Rezo waits patiently for Ziel to process the question, and smiles gently once he has Ziel's permission.
"It may feel a little uncomfortable, but it should pass quickly."
Rezo sets a hand on Ziel's arm and silently casts the spell. Enjoy speedrunning sobriety, Ziel. Despite the alarming words, on most people the detoxify spell doesn't do worse than make anyone feel a bit itchy as it cleanses whatever drugs are in their system. Most people don't have spiritual wounds, however.
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What did hurt was that when the drugs were purged from his system, he could suddenly feel the weight of pain and fatigue that had been his constant companion once again. Or…it had always been there, but for a few minutes it hadn’t felt important and has faded into the background.
In a way, Ziel looked worse after he had been healed. At least he could think a bit more clearly, now.
“Thanks. Don’t get near the purple, ball shaped mushrooms. They can shoot out clouds of spores, if you get to close.”
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Afterwards, Rezo's expression shifts to one of minute surprise at the thanks.
"I'll do my best," he says. Of course, he won't be able to tell if they're purple or not, nor if they're ball shaped unless he's definitely too close. But at least he has a cloth over his lower face and the ability to detoxify myself.
Rezo supposes that it's curiosity that fuels his next question.
"...Are you sure you're alright?"
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“No, but not because of anything you did wrong.”
He wouldn’t normally go into this with a stranger, but a stubborn flicker of hope that refused to go out was telling him that if this man was a healer, maybe he’d know of a way to fix him. He sighed and sat up, rubbing one hand on his head as if he had a headache. Which, he kind of did. “I suffered a terrible spiritual injury a few years ago. It makes it hard for me to benefit from or use any kind of magic.”
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Re: 3
Deedee takes a breath. Takes in Breath. Floods her muscles with the stuff, synonymous with the energies she learned to command with it: pneuma, ruach, qi.
“I go high, you go low?” she suggests - before leaping, borne aloft on a gust of wind and gathering a swirling bolt of green air energy between two palms.
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He summoned ether from his core and cycled it through his muscles. It flowed poorly, and brought agony with it, but it also brought the strength he needed to fight such a massive foe. He could endure it, for a little while.
He went low, swinging the hammer around again for another smashing blow against the serpent's flank, trying to time it so that his attack landed at the same time Deedee's did.
In his mind, he was imagining an entirely different beast before him. Catharsis was one of the few pleasures he still indulged in.
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Her pneumatic blast lands like a cannonball, crushing scales in just the right place for Ziel’s hammer to drive through. Their combined efforts are rewarded with a spray of ichor, a bestial screech of dismay - and a slackening of tension as the monster loses its grip.
Deedee flips into a dive kick, smashing her foot against the beast, trying to speed up its release of the boat. It’s not out yet, though, and ripples outward - attempting to crack against the two practitioners like a bullwhip.
(Deedee’s aura, should Ziel perceive it, does not “burn” as ”hot” as his did at its peak. But it burns bright and pure, and isn’t done growing.)
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They only lasted for a few seconds before shattering under the beast's massive weight, but it bought Ziel the time he needed to forge more rings of green glowing runes around the head of his hammer.
The first blow had been enough to stop it from crushing Deedee. The second blow, combined with her own attack, had wounded the beast. The third blow struck three times faster and harder and actually lifted the coil of serpent up into the air for a moment, leaving it easy pickings for Deedee's finisher.
Hopefully, she was preparing some kind of finisher, Ziel thought. He didn't think he could manage a fourth blow right now. After all that, he could barely stand anymore.
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She leapt forward, knife-hand blows cutting like real blades, in an accelerated kata of nine blows.
nine tail lash -
They seemed to hang in the air for a long instant, before Deedee twisted in midair to smash it, by her heel, back into the sea.
She lands, and breathes, and clears her stance before turning to - well, she was going to thank him, but ends up catching him before he collapses, instead.
“You’re hurt,” she says. Then, angrier, “You picked a fight with this thing while injured!”
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Now then, how could he deal with the latest allegations?
“Yeah.”
Nailed it.
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Normally.
She slaps her hands down and applies pressure and healing energy THROUGH Ziel’s shoulders.
With a spiteful televangelist’s “m’BE HEALED!” to boot.
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But the way spiritual energy moved through his body was…weird. Wrong. Instead of flowing through natural channels, it leaked slowly like dripping water through a pile of debris from a shattered house.
That only lasted a second before Ziel shook her hands off of him. “Don’t bother. It’s not the kind of injury that can be that easily healed. I’ll live.”
After a further moment of thought, he added on, “or I won’t. Either way, it’s out of our hands.”
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“You’re right,” she admits. “I’ve never seen qi flow that fucked before. Today I learned that kind of damage was possible to sustain.”
She lifts up her hands, clears her stance, centers and breathes.
“Can’t blame me for wanting to help?”
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He sighed, and sunk back down into himself. Now that the moment of immediate crisis was passed, he found it difficult to fight against the endless fatigue that lay over his entire life. “No, I guess I can’t. Don’t worry about it.”
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Deedee pauses, looking at Ziel as if she wants to ask something, but biting her lip as if to stop herself.
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Ziel leaned back until his head hit the ship’s mast behind him. It was starting to rain, but after all the splashing about from the sea serpent everyone was already pretty wet.
After a moment, he glanced over at Deedee, who was practically bouncing in place. Suddenly, he felt a bit more tired. “Well? Out with it, kid.”
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