vivalaooc | 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

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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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Wasn't thinking about it," the young turtlekin replies, even as he casts an uncertain look towards the noise. He's never really been fond of that much noise to begin with, it's why he's always got his earmuffs handy, built into the goggles he seems never to be without.

His attention shifts back towards the dragon man, much more approachable in this form, and therefore more of a curiosity than something scary. "Need help there?" he asks, head tilting as he takes in what Stone is doing, and he drifts a little closer, a hand already digging into one of his belt pouches for a roll of bandaging. He's never gone on any of the liberation missions so far. "Was there a lot of opposition?"

"A handful of guards got some lucky hits," Stone grunts. "And one of the kids I carried off tried to stab me a few times. There's one on my back that I didn't go a great job of patching if you want to get that one."

There is a shirt in the way, and it's not bloody so he clearly managed to patch it a little, but not in a way that will hold for very long. He's old. He's not as flexible as he used to be.

It's one thing when it's the enemy. It's another thing when you're having to fend off the people you're trying to save. Donnie makes a face. "Sounds kind of disorganized in that department. Maybe they should pair you up with someone," he suggests.

Stepping around behind where Stone sits, Donnie gives Stone's shirt a couple of tugs, more as a signal to pull it up himself unless he wants Donnie to do it for him. At least he's used to treating injuries to some degree. When you had three rowdy brothers it helped to have someone know how to them or yourself up.

"Here, pass it over to me on that side," he says once he starts with the bandaging.

Stone grunts then gives it a haphazard tug, so it slides off his shoulder instead, giving Donnie access to the wound in question, just barely. It's an actual puncture wound, transferred to his back from his wings when he changed shape. "They did. But if the idiots on the ground don't explain properly, or the new kids don't speak the language yet, not a lot to be done about it."

"...oh. Yeah, I can see how that can complicate matters," Donnie admits with a grimace. He takes a look at the wound in question, wincing as it doesn't look at all pleasant. Taking a moment to dig out one of the poultices he tries to keep on hand for any emergencies.

"This might feel kinda cold but it should help with any pain and keep you from bleeding all over the place," he explains before applying it, moving to hold it in place with bandaging.

That's the kind of healing Stone is used to. The mentors of his people put their power into poultices. So he simply grunts and pulls his shirt aside a little further to give him room. It's definitely colder than a mentor's poultice, but he can handle it. "Pain doesn't bother me much. I've had much worse than this."

He tilts his head a little to show him a scar across his throat, difficult to see when it's gray on gray but still visible when Stone taps it with one finger. It looks rather like something tried to bite it open. "This one took me days to recover from enough to change shape again."

"Better not to take chances," Donnie says as he makes sure it's secured. He glances over at Stone's movement, shuddering once his attention's brought to the scar.

"Guh, how are you still even breathing?"

"It happened in my other form, which is stronger than this one, and also has scales," Stone explains, turning back around to finish with the cuts on his arms. "Also, a very powerful healer helped." There had been a while when they worried he might die, but he thought they were exaggerating, personally.

Frankly, Stone is criss-crossed with scars all over his body. Donnie can probably see more on his back and shoulders, now that he knows what to look for.

The youth's nose wrinkles. "How many forms you got in there?" he can't help but ask. Now that they're pointed out, Donnie can't help but notice them all the more, the scars that tell a story or many stories and he's not sure how much he'd want to hear of them.

"There, that should do it," he says, quick to put some space between them once the job's done, but that's because he's very keen on his personal space and only shares when absolutely necessary.

"Just this one and the other one," Stone promises. "I could show you the other one, if you haven't seen it yet, but it might sink this part of the boat." He's exaggerating. He's not really that big. Not yet, anyway. It certainly would startle some people, though.

He pulls his shirt back into place once Donnie's settled back, and finishes up with his arms. "My people are shifters, sure, but we only have the two shapes, one to fit in with groundlings and one to fly and hunt with."

"If I have, maybe I didn't know it was you," Donnie considers. Support work usually has him pretty preoccupied though, and not normally out in the thick of things. He tilts his head.

"You can fly? That sounds amazing. I mean, I know we have ships and things that can do that but by your own power or individually is a lot different. For now, the most I can do is with a glider."

"You'd remember it if you did. Big, black, hard to look at directly from a distance. Wings and tail and lots of spines. A couple of the people here like to call me a dragon, though I don't know exactly what that is," Stone explains. "And yeah, I can fly. I'm big enough to carry people, but I've been told it's not as fun to be carried as it is doing it yourself."

"Hm. Nope, definitely not," Donnie considers, eyes wide as he tries to picture that. Yeah, no wonder people freaked out about him. Poor guy. With the strange looks Donnie gets himself on occasion, he wonders all the more what a dragonlike figure must have to put up with.

"I haven't seen any dragons personally but I've heard they're big and scaly and winged. So...I guess that'd be why."

That this person can not only change his form but grow is simply fascinating. "Wow.... -and no, not much fun at all. You're depending on something or someone else to maneuver. I bet someone who can fly could do a lot of neat things in the air."

Test Drive Meme #1

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