vivalaooc | Test Drive Meme #1

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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.

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[Jamil nods mechanically, and returns to kneeling next to Kalim.]

Sure. Lie on your left side.

[It's easy, familiar, and almost reassuring to fall into the old pattern of giving Kalim lessons. Jamil gently guides Kalim's limbs into the right places without having to think to ask, while explaining what he's doing so automatically it's like his mouth is moving on its own. Right leg bent forward, to prevent rolling onto the stomach. Hands beneath Kalim's cheek to elevate the throat and prevent any obstruction to the airway. Jamil knows he's already explained this to Kalim multiple times, but for once he doesn't complain as the routine gives Jamil a break from having to think.

Unfortunately, there's really only so much you can teach about the recovery position (it's pretty simple) and after the second run through--not to stall, just to make sure Kalim really gets it, obviously--it's like Jamil's mouth stops working. He can barely remember what he just told Kalim, and now he can't come up with the next thing. And there's always a next thing. There's always contingency plans to make, always things to instruct Kalim on, they certainly don't have every possible danger in this situation covered.

But Jamil finds he can't think of any of those things. He sits back on his heels and all he can do is stare at Kalim lying on the ground with his head full of static and his throat locked up, knuckles nearly white from how tightly he's clasped his hands together.

This is it. He's run out of things to say and he doesn't know what's next. He doesn't know what to do.]

[ Kalim complies just as easily as any other time Jamil has explained this or anything like it to him, his limbs lax enough to make it easy for Jamil to do what he wants with them without being dead weight. He's quieter than usual, though – he doesn't interrupt much, no complaints about being ticklish, just nodding and murmured agreements to Jamil's well-trodden explanations. Clearly Kalim needed a break from thinking, too.

At least, until they're finished. The way Jamil sits there when he's done seems to bring Kalim back to noisy, alarmed life; he sits up and leans over to put his hand over Jamil's, looking at him in concern. ]

Are you okay? Gosh, I'm sorry, you should be resting! Ah, are you hungry? I can go get something to eat! Wow, I'm really not being a very good host, haha...

Don't go outside!

[Jamil grabs both of Kalim's wrists like he's afraid Kalim might actually bolt out the door right this second. Where his thoughts were frozen a second ago now they're whipped into a frenzy, imagining what might happen if someone were after him and went after Kalim when he was out, how Jamil would be stuck waiting here by himself for hours unable to go look for him and with no way of knowing what happened, and it's somehow only really hitting him now that this is the most helpless and vulnerable he's ever been in his entire life and all he has to rely on to keep him safe is fucking Kalim, the most unreliable person in the world and who probably can't even remember what he ate for breakfast yesterday.

Is he panicking? This feels a little like he's panicking.]

[ Kalim jerks in surprise and stares at him. ]

But. But you should eat, Jamil. You'll feel worse if you don't.

[ He actually... tries to extricate himself from Jamil's grip, which is kind of new. He wants to protest that it'll be fine, he knows what he's doing and where he's going and he's not the one they'll be looking for anyway... but... Wow, Jamil looks really freaked out.

Jamil has asked Kalim to put himself in his position numerous times, historically, and usually to no avail. It turns out that it's easier to do that when Jamil's position is trapped, frightened, and helpless, compared to, for example, "not interested in throwing a party" (completely unrelatable). It's kind of hard for Kalim not to imagine what that would be like for him if this was the other way around, if he had to stay put and wait with no idea of when Jamil would come back...

He knows it's different for Jamil, of course -- he knows Jamil doesn't actually like him! -- but still. He relents. He stops trying to make him let go. ]

...I think there might be some stuff in the kitchen.

[Jamil doesn't let go. He doesn't even seem to comprehend that Kalim is trying to shake him off in the first place--truly an incomprehensible idea that he'd ever do so, to be fair. For a few moments he remains frozen in his position, kneeling on the floor and clinging to Kalim's hands, like he hadn't even realized Kalim had ever spoken.

Then, as shaky as it is incredulous:]

What... what have you been eating?

[KALIM AL-ASIM HAVE YOU BEEN COOKING]

Well...usually I eat in the common area with everyone else! But I tried baking last week because one of the other guys made cookies for everyone and I wanted to try it...

[ IT DID NOT GO WELL. BUT THAT'S FINE ]

[Jamil stares at him, trying to process all these new revelations of Kalim has been eating in public without Jamil to screen his food and Kalim tried cooking and didn't die. It functions like a splash of cold water to his face in the midst of his spiraling thoughts, at least for now, though he can still feel it simmering in his chest like a pot of water just about to boil. Still, anything is better than that rushing, mounting fear, even if it's just exasperation.

His hands spring back from Kalim's wrists, like he'd only just realized he was still holding them, and he gracefully uncoils from kneeling on the floor to standing.]

If you have ingredients, I can make something.

[Oops! Now who's not reading the room?]

[ Kalim scrambles to his feet to join him this time, still looking a bit startled. ]

Ah, wait, you don't have to! I don't think I have the right stuff to cook anything, anyway...

[Jamil looks at him incredulously.]

Then what are we supposed to eat? [...Oh. Kalim's likely-failed baking attempts, probably. No thanks, he's nauseous enough.] Never mind, I don't... really think I could eat anything anyway.

[Which leaves him right back where he started: teetering on the brink of a deep pit of terror. Maybe he should try to eat, just to put his mind on something else.]

[ Don't worry, he threw those out. He REALLY messed that up.

He makes his way over to the little kitchen, peering up into a cupboard. ]

Are you sure? I have some dried fruit and nuts left over, it's better than nothing, right?

[Jamil only follows him a few steps, caught between wanting to stay in sight of Kalim and wanting to stay in sight of the door.]

That's--yes, that's fine.

[Something to stave off Kalim's concern, which is making his skin crawl, and to keep his mind occupied. He can manage that much.]

[ Kalim perks up a little and comes back with three small cloth bags: dried figs, dried apricots, and walnuts. ]

It's not much, I'm sorry...I don't really cook usually, haha. But, well, there's water if you want!

[Okay, reassuring, these are in fact all very Kalim-safe foods. Jamil takes the walnuts and numbly sinks back onto the cushion closest to the door.]

...Thank you.

[It's so quiet Kalim could easily not even hear it; it's out of Jamil's mouth like an afterthought. He still doesn't have much appetite, but now he's gotta do something with these walnuts. Please don't tell him Kalim wants to watch him eat...]

[ He does hear it, and his slight smile broadens immediately. He sits down next to Jamil with the dried fruit. ]

Can you use any magic right now? Do you want me to crack one for you?

Edited 2024-07-19 21:49 (UTC)

[Jamil shoots him an exasperated look. But at least it's a reaction!]

I don't need magic to crack a walnut.

[...But it's probably a good idea to test what he can do regardless. It would give him a rough gauge of his "family's" reaction, if nothing else, to see if there's been any change to his restraints. Jamil holds out his right hand, palm up, and imagines a ball of flame hovering in the center of it, a few centimeters above the skin. It's a basic magic exercise, taught on the very first day of Practical Magic back in freshman year, intended to strengthen both visualization and control. Done right, it should be about the size of a baseball and perfectly contained. Anyone with the hope of passing their first semifinal should be able to do it in their sleep.

Jamil can only manage the size of a large candle flame. He releases a shaky, bitter exhale at the sight of it and snaps his hand shut. Well, at least that's consistent with what he's been able to do previously, which means the band hasn't been adjusted in any way yet. He isn't sure at all how to take that.]

[ Kalim watches with faint confusion at first -- this doesn't seem conducive to walnut cracking ? -- but he does get it after a moment. His smile fades a little. ]

Wow, they really had you on a tight leash, huh? Oh--! But that means they haven't done anything else to it yet, right?

[Does he really have to put it like that?]

It was "generous" of them to let me use magic at all.

[Now he has an appetite. He takes one of the walnuts and slams it onto the tabletop with a little too much force, which is cathartic but also makes his hand hurt, and rolls it around in mulish silence until the shell has more or less crumbled away along with most of the nut. He's too exhausted to be embarrassed by it, but it occurs to him that maybe he doesn't really want to try and open the rest of these by hand for no reason than pure pride.]

...Do you have a knife?

[He isn't sure which answer he is most afraid of: yes, which means Kalim has in fact been handling knives without supervision, or no, which means Jamil probably will need to have Kalim open his fucking walnuts for him for the rest of the night.]

[ BAD NEWS:

BOTH. ]

Oh, actually, no, I borrowed one from someone else last time I cooked. Sorry!

[ It doesn't actually seem to occur to him that Jamil might find the knife use part objectionable, though, even though that was a rule he took pretty seriously back home. Hmm. ]

Edited 2024-07-20 02:21 (UTC)

[...He's going to have a heart attack. It's fine, obviously nothing happened and Kalim has no lasting damage. It's Fine.

None of this solves the problem of the walnuts, which Jamil knows but will never admit that he's being ridiculous about. It's just--this day has already been humiliating enough without having to ask Kalim to fucking feed him.]

I changed my mind. I want the figs.

Okay!

[ Kalim hands them over without protest, although he takes one for himself first. He looks for a moment at the walnut mess on the table, and then decides to move on. ]

Anyway, it's definitely good news if you can still do some magic, right? They haven't, um, turned it down or anything?

[Jamil shoves a fig in his mouth before answering, because he needs some time to put his words together if Kalim is going to keep jabbing his fingers into all of Jamil's bruises.]

...It seems like it. I guess they must think I didn't disappear on purpose. Or it just hasn't occurred to them to do anything with the band.

Right! That's good!

[ He leans back on one arm, chewing his own fig and watching Jamil. He's relieved to see him eating. ]

So... How long has it been? Since you came through the gate, I mean?

[Time for another delay fig. Jamil feels a bit like he's being manipulated. Is Kalim doing this on purpose?

He's been somewhat ignoring the passage of time by choice, because thinking about how long he's spent here threatens to send him into hysterics, especially when he thought he'd never--

But Kalim is here now, and that--it isn't that he missed Kalim, obviously, but he's a reminder that it's irrevocably over now because Jamil would rather die than go back there. That's all.]

...A little over five months, I think. [Assuming he has the calendar system right.]

[ Kalim is not doing this on purpose, but he will be once he notices it's working. He's on the brink of that realisation now, tilting his head as he watches Jamil reach for the bag of figs again... ]

Oh! I think it's about the same for me. [ A very brief pause. He glances at the dried figs. ] So you were working for those guys that whole time?

[He is. He's totally doing this on purpose. And this is the last time he's getting away with it.

Accordingly, Jamil's answer this time is much snippier.]

Yes, they bought me as soon as I came through the Gate and showed them I was better put to use in a household than in the mines. Why does it matter, Kalim?

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