TDM #2

[glencolans]

TEST DRIVE MEME #2

Welcome to Glencola Reef's second Test Drive Meme! This is a place where anyone interested in applying a character - or just curious to see how their characters might interact with the setting and others in the game - can mingle with one another. General prompts are provided below for inspiration.

TDM GUIDELINES

• Please read the rules before posting to the TDM. These still apply here and will be enforced, up to and including deleting tags/toplevels and prebanning.
• Posts from a TDM are required to apply. At least three tags across any number of threads within a TDM, posted within the last 6 months, must be provided in every application.
• TDM threads can be used for AC. Note that new characters only need to check in for their first AC cycle, but established characters can use TDM tags for their AC.
• TDMs are not considered game canon by default. This is mostly for logistics reasons - due to how characters travel on the map, it's unlikely that non-network threads that take place here will actually happen in-game. However, I won't stop anyone from working out how to make parts of threads game canon if they really want to.
• New TDMs will be posted every three months. Keep checking back into the current TDM for new toplevels!

I. ARRIVAL

You awaken on a tropical island beach, soaking wet, powerless, and without any idea how you got here. Were you carrying something important, or wearing powerful armor? How unfortunate - it looks like only the most basic clothes, items in your pockets, and simple weapons managed to make the trip with you. Are you even physically the same as you remember? If you had superhuman abilities tied to your physiology, you might be stuck in a completely different body that lacks your usual senses. You might've been whisked away from a tense battle or a near-death experience and wake up delirious, or even injured.

Thankfully, against overwhelming odds, you're not the only one to wake up on this particular stretch of beach. You and your companion have a lot of puzzling out to do.

II. NETWORK

Even if you weren't lucky enough to wake up near someone else, at least you've arrived with a military-grade radio transceiver gripped tightly in your hand (or mouth, or other vaguely opposable appendage of choice). The clunky walkie-talkie will start buzzing and crackling for every public message that starts coming your way. Answering them back is as easy as pressing the "talk" button on the side of the device and either speaking into the receiver, or using the keypad to type into the message box that appears on the screen, then pressing the button again to send. A list of ongoing conversations with responses that are less than 24 hours old can be found by scrolling through the menu, identified by the callsigns that are participating in them. It seems that you've been assigned a callsign, too - it shows up in the top right side of the screen, format AB123C. The letters and numbers picked are...probably random.

This is your easiest avenue to communicating, or coordinating with, or complaining at the other people stuck on this island; how you decide to use this tool is up to you.

III. A SAFE PLACE

Whether because someone else directed you via the transceivers, or someone found you and is leading you there, or just out of sheer luck, you have stumbled your way up the western coastline and run into an abandoned airfield. At least it used to be abandoned; there are obvious signs that the area has seen recent use, from the myriad of footprints in the sand leading up to the ocean, to the racks of drying fish lined along the shattered asphalt of a runway, to the strangely complex water stills and...who even knows what chemicals are brewing in those pots next to the largest airplane hangar? Even if you find the signs of people first, you're likely to run into the inhabitants themselves sooner rather than later, as the airfield has become a surprisingly busy hub of activity in comparison to the bleak isolation of the rest of the island. Maybe some of the more experienced inhabitants will help you figure out what's going on here, or try to rope you into exploring or cleaning out the more run-down buildings lining the runway, like the smaller hangars or the desolate traffic control tower at the far end. You likely aren't the only new person trying to find your way around, either. Hopefully the person you arrived with is more interested in helping rather than just looting the place and running off.

IV. STRANGE BOUNTIES

The weather on this island can be rather unpredictable sometimes. Just yesterday it was sunny and hot, then today, without warning, the sky opened up - literally, like the pale blue horizon was a vase smashed by a hammer and a billowing cyclone poured through the hole - and dumped at least a foot of rain on you in the span of an hour. You just barely managed to avoid getting swept out to sea, hunkering down in the relative safety of the deeper jungle, when the storm stopped as suddenly as it started. Dazed and possibly hurt, you stumble back to the beach to get a look at the sky--

--And find the beach absolutely covered in heaps of beach peas. There are so many that you can't even see the sand underfoot, and more of the pods are still washing up with the swollen tide. A flurry of very confused seagulls are already picking at the pile of legumes, but you should be quick about getting your own share - other captives are likely to show up soon, too, and they probably have much deeper pockets and appetites than the birds.

V. HOSTILE STRANGERS

As others have had the misfortune of discovering first-hand, there are entities on the island that have been here for much longer than the active group on the transceivers has been, and they aren't necessarily friendly. One in particular guards their territory fiercely from intruders - or maybe they just enjoy toying with those that wander within their reach. For those exploring the dense jungles in the northeast, this individual's motivations are probably the last things on your mind when you encounter them personally. Minding your own business, by yourself or traveling with others like you, noting the odd lack of animal calls in an otherwise vibrant jungle, suddenly there's the faint whistling noise of a crossbow bolt hissing through the air on a collision course for your vitals. You might consider yourself lucky if you stumble into one of their expertly-hidden rope traps instead and end up dangling by your ankle ten feet in the air. Hopefully, if you are currently traveling alone, someone will find you quickly enough to keep you from being killed outright by this hidden assailant.

NAVIGATION

Comments

Vanitas | The Case Study of Vanitas

[sang_bleu]

I. ARRIVAL
For a moment, nothing registers as wrong.

It wasn’t unusual for the man who calls himself Vanitas to doze off on the roof of the Hotel Chouchou with the sun and breeze on his face. It’s one of the few places he feels peaceful, perhaps even safe. So when you first see him asleep on the sand, his expression is gentle, and with his androgynously pretty face and slight build within a voluminous coat, he might even be mistaken for younger than his eighteen years.

Of course, he sleeps so easily outside in part because he sleeps lightly enough that no one will catch him unawares. Which is why when the strangeness hits him all at once, it shoots his nervous system straight into panic mode. He scrambles to his feet, dropping the transceiver and scattering sand and seaweed all around him. As he glances around the beach, his hands go not to either of the twin daggers sheathed at his sides but to an odd rectangular holster at his back… which is currently empty, save a silver chain that now dangles loosely, nothing at its free end.

Then he reaches for his weapons, even before his eyes land on the other stranger on the beach. Any hint of childlike innocence is gone, replaced by a wall of icy steel behind his unnaturally-brilliant blue eyes.

One knife is in his hand with a flick of his wrist, and he points it at you accusingly.

“The book. Where is it.”


II. NETWORK
When accusing strangers on the beach doesn’t work to find his missing property, Vanitas turns to threatening text messages instead:

Return my book, or I will find you and take it back.


III. AIRFIELD
Having gotten himself as cleaned up as he could manage with seawater alone, Vanitas strides into the pocket of “civilization” with an air of carefree confidence, despite still looking like a mess. The salt has rendered his asymmetric haircut into something that treads the line between “handsome rogue” and “bedraggled wet cat.” And because his heavy coat is also taking forever to dry, it's now slung over one arm to reveal the neatly tailored vaguely-Victorian garb (and securely sheathed daggers) underneath.

He greets the first person he sees with a little wave, a tilt of his head, and a bright, cheerful smile that seems entirely put-on.

“Hello! I just washed up on the beach and I am trying to get my bearings. Is there somewhere around here I can get something to eat?”

III.

[desperate_times_right]

Speaking of bedraggled wet cats, the first person he encounters is a woman in a red t-shirt that has seen better days, torn haphazardly across the waist and jeans with the right knee torn out, stained from the knee down with something dark and crusty that could be mud or old blood. She’s leaning on a crutch made from a tree branch and her right foot is wrapped in what look like men’s shirtsleeves.

Despite that, she's moving around surprisingly quickly, and grins when he approaches.

“Oh, hey! Look what the elephant dropped in. People here’ve got a bunch of fish jerky in the far hangar if you want some.”

[sang_bleu]

The elephant?? Vanitas mentally shoves that aside, a question for another time.

"Fish jerky," he repeats. "Well, mademoiselle, I'm sure it will seem a feast after the day I've had. I couldn't tell you when I last had a meal. Does this, er, village have a name?"

His too-blue eyes linger on her injured foot. Unfortunately, his doctor's bag is probably still in Paris, but if that is the best that someone here can do... Well. It might be leverage, if the people here are as friendly as they seem.

[desperate_times_right]

Chloe shrugs cheerfully. “Dunno, really. Only got here recently, myself. Everyone just calls it the airfield.”

[sang_bleu]

Vanitas looks again at the large buildings in the distance. He'd taken them for enormous warehouses or something, but upon reappraisal, they could be hangars for some sort of airship, albeit smaller than most of those he had encountered before. What was this place?

"Did everyone here just... wash up on the beach?"

[desperate_times_right]

“Far’s I know, yeah. Well, maybe not Sam, I didn't ask him.” Sam is a cat.

“You’re new-new, I take it?” These are the kinds of questions that come up all the time on the radio whenever anyone wakes up.

[sang_bleu]

"It seems so. I woke up here this morning. At least, I think it was morning." A pause. "I'm assuming no one happens to know how we all got here? Or why we're missing specific possessions?"

His left hand (with the coat over it) fidgets with the edge of his other dark elbow-length glove. They're itchy with salt and sand, but he doesn't take them off. Won't leave them off. Not in public.

[desperate_times_right]

"Nope! A bunch of stuff fell out of the sky a couple of days ago but we don't know if it's related. It's just kind of like this the whole time."

Chloe notes the glove and the drape of the coat, eyeing him curiously.

“You lose something important?”

I

[sharktrash]

They're always so touchy upon waking up, aren't they?

Which, honestly, is pretty much a pot and kettle situation, considering how successful Squalo had been at keeping his temper in check when he ended up here, but why acknowledge that when you could be playing with your food instead?

He stands right where he was before when the other man had come to, not backing off and not coming closer either, wearing easy confidence and an expression of lazy amusement along with a grin -- and, oh. He's also got an axe resting on his shoulder, and in his other hand he throws and catches a knife once, as if mimicking the other's quick draw but flashier. What an asshole.

"How the fuck should I know?" he asks, just a tad too cheerily considering the circumstances. It probably does nothing to convince anybody that he didn't take it, either. "Sounds like you should keep a better track of your belongings."

[sang_bleu]

Vanitas narrows his eyes, taking in everything he can about the man in front of him. He looks human, at a glance, and not much like a chasseur. That's good - it means they're probably somewhere in the human world. And while he knows better than to underestimate human combat abilities, it nonetheless puts them on more even ground.

He also doesn't seem likely to be the one responsible for him being here. A guard? A thief? But even if the latter... the Book of Vanitas might look enticing even to an unknowing human, but it also isn't particularly small or easily concealed, and Squalo doesn't seem to have it on his person.

There's too much he doesn't know, and he hates it. And it's enough for him not to rise to the obvious provocation.

He lowers the knife by just an inch.

"Who are you? Where are we right now?"

[sharktrash]

Squalo watches that knife tip dip lower, maybe a little disappointed. As much as he doesn't want to get in trouble with Randvi, it's not like he'd catch shit if he was merely defending himself, right? But it seems he won't be provided that this time.

"Hey, there should be a 'hello' and 'please' in there somewhere, scumbag." He doesn't give a damn one way or another, but he has to point out the audacity of this guy just demanding information. Not that it wouldn't be exactly what Squalo would do in that situation. Which is why he continues without waiting for any pleasantries anyway. "You can call me Squalo. And you are?"

It's only fair if he gets a name in return first, after all.

I

[solitarysoul]

Levi takes a step back, a hand moving to pull his gun from his back...but its not there. It'd take to long to go for his knife... "What book? I don't have any books!"

[sang_bleu]

Vanitas sees the way he starts to go for a weapon but then stops, and his protests... well, they sound honest enough. He lowers his knife, but doesn't return it to its sheath.

"I had a book with me. Now it's gone."

He looks around, reassuring himself that it hadn't just been flung elsewhere on the beach... and looking for any sign of something familiar.

"Where is this place?"

[solitarysoul]

He relaxes a bit with the knife no longer pointed at him, but not completely as its still out. "...a beach."

That was hardly helpful. "Sorry. That's all I know."

[sang_bleu]

Vanitas rolls his eyes.

"Oh! A beach! I never would have guessed!" He throws his hands in the air, including the one still holding the knife. More free of the coat sleeves, his long gloves and clawed fingertips are obvious.

When he drops his hands, he also drops the sarcasm, and sheathes the dagger. His tone turns bland.

"But do you remember how you got here?"

[solitarysoul]

"No idea. I just woke up over there." He gestures further down the beach. "Without my gun."

[sang_bleu]

Vanitas frowns at the last bit of that. Someone must have stripped them both of some of their belongings. But who? And why would they take this guy's gun but not Vanitas's knives?

And if they weren't targeting the Book in particular... it raised more questions than it answered.

"Do you remember what happened before that? Or know who might have brought us here?"

[solitarysoul]

"No...at least, I don't think so. I remember some things but nothing that'd lead up to, uh, wherever this is. Or how I got here."

iii

[hyakuoku]

Senku is used to people showing up looking like shit; it just be like that around here. (Also he can't judge, considering he still hasn't made any effort to find pants.)

He knows a fake smile when he sees one, especially after being besties with Gen for so long, but it's better than someone pointing a gun at him again. Or a knife. A hammer. Whatever. He gets weapons drawn on him a lot and it's gotten old.

"Newbie, huh? Sure, we have some fish and a shit ton of fruit. Fresh water, too, if you need that." He shouldn't be so trusting, but he always figures they're all in this shithole together. No point in starting off with animosity.

[sang_bleu]

"Oh! Those all sound amazing." Vanitas says, wandering closer, in part to get a better look at this particularly-strange stranger. His tone is weirdly casual for someone just dumped into all of this bullshit, but Senku can almost certainly recognize it as the same sort of thing Gen would pull trying to cozy up to someone new that he wants something from.

"From the way you say it... I take it that people wash up on the shore here regularly? And from the way you look... I suspect it's not quite so easy to leave." (Is the last bit judging his outfit? Only a little.)

[hyakuoku]

Senku watches Vanitas come closer, unmoving at first. He absolutely gets Gen vibes from this guy, that casual tone, the way he seems friendlier than pretty much anyone Senku has met here. It's an act, but Senku isn't people-savvy enough to deduce anything further than that. At least he recognises a bullshitter when he meets one?

But that doesn't change his mind about sharing food and water. People can act however they want. Senku will still help them. He'll save every person on this stupid ass island if he can.

He shrugs and does that laugh he always does.

"Fairly regularly, though there doesn't seem to be any sort of set schedule to it. Been wondering if there's a limit, but so far it is what it is."

The last part just rolls off him. Is it about his hair? His clothes? A secret third thing? He doesn't give a shit. He's not fussed about appearances in the slightest. Someday maybe K will find him pants, but until then he's fine with what he has. Maybe he'll explain his bizarro world origins to Vanitas if they get that far. But for now.

"C'mon. I'm Senku. Fish is mostly dried or smoked. Fruit is…well, we have a shit ton of pineapples. One guy keeps finding them."

[sang_bleu]

"Pineapples? That's fancy." And foreign. Pineapples don't grow wild on the coast of France, or anywhere in Europe. While Vanitas has heard of them, they are an expensive and exclusive treat, cultivated in greenhouses or shipped from distant plantations for the enjoyment of the haute bourgeoisie. And even Noé's naïve culinary whims haven't yet brought one to their table. Just how far have his mysterious abductors taken him? And why take all these others as well? He needs more information.

"I'm Vanitas, and I was a doctor in Paris before I was dropped... wherever this is. What about you?"

[hyakuoku]

"Is it?" Senku asks mildly. He takes Vanitas in again, noting the clothing style. It could mean pretty much anything, considering how insane all of their worlds seemed to be, but…Victorian, maybe? European, if he had to guess, but beyond that he had no way of knowing. Levi's clothing looked vaguely Edwardian, though, and he didn't seem to know anything about regular Earth languages, so this guy might be from another world that didn't have them.

He knew what a pineapple was, though, unlike Levi.

"I'm a scientist from Japan," he answers. Vanities looks pretty young to be a doctor, but different worlds, and anyway, Senku looks younger than he is too. He decides to just take Vanitas's words at face value for the moment. He can tell there's some bullshit factor here, but he's not a lie detector.

Come to think of it, maybe inventing a polygraph test wouldn't be a terrible idea. He files that away for later.

"A bunch of us showed up just like you, but it started…not quite three weeks ago now."

[sang_bleu]

Japan? Even by astermite-powered airship, that is quite a journey. Where the hell are they? It seems like more he learns, the less sense everything makes.

Vanitas latches onto the other bit of that introduction for now. "A scientist, eh? Have any theories on how the fuck we got here?"

II

[aluminumandash]

[ From callsign RE419S: ]

Book got a name?