pluviooc | TEST DRIVE 02

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TEST DRIVE 02

TEST DRIVE

Hello, and welcome to the second Pluviosa Test Drive!

This Test Drive corresponds to Days 4-12 in the ship calendar, and will run until around the game's next major event. You can get a better idea what's going on in the most recent Game Update which covers Days 5-8. Currently, character IC housing is not in operation yet; it is expected to open on Day 9 (part of the way through the Test Drive period). Otherwise, the ship is largely in the state described on the Setting page and in other game information.

Test Drive threads involving characters who are accepted are considered canon to the events of the game unless otherwise agreed by players/mods. Pluviosa does not do welcome mingle logs nor does it have any kind of in-character welcome information, making your test drive threads your character's arrival to the game setting. That said, mod-run interactions such as formal exploration and/or interactions with the Ship as an NPC are not available on the Test Drive.

It is advised that potential players familiarize themselves with the Premise page, the Rules/Session Zero page, and at least the first few paragraphs of the Setting page. As Pluviosa is a horror game, we especially encourage players to be aware of the content warnings that will be major themes of the game. If you have any further questions, you can ask them on the QUESTIONS header in the comments!

If you're test driving a character, you're welcome to join the game Discord and hang out and meet your fellow players!

ARRIVAL - LIKE THE RAIN

You wake up. You remember waking up, right? In another place, another time...

There's blood running down your fingers. Outside, the rain isn't pounding, yet, just a gentle patter...

Or is it?

As characters gain fuller awareness of their surroundings, they will realize that there is, in fact, no blood on their hands (save any that might have already been there). It feels as though they lost focus for a moment and hallucinated, but the hallucination ended with them somewhere else entirely.

There is not actually the sound of rain. If characters are near enough to a window, balcony, or even a hole in the ceiling, they will find that it is cloudless, beaming sunlight outside. The emptiness in the distance rolls on and on, completely absent any signs of life.

That being, of course, because the signs of life are all in here. Characters might wake up on any of the decks on the upper side of the ship - anywhere that isn't the cafeteria or lounge where previous arrivals spend most of their time is free game. This also means, of course, that they have the jungle of plants to contend with...

LIGHTS ON, SHOW START

Most areas in the ship are dark when characters arrive. That doesn't mean that they stay dark. Occasionally, lights overhead flicker on and off for a few minutes at a time.

The problem with this isn't the lights themselves (cool white and kind of industrial). It's the reaction that the addition of the extra light causes the plants in the dark areas of the ship that's cause for alarm. To describe the growth as explosive isn't an understatement - vines, saplings, and even thicker branches surge with growth, pushing outwards towards the distant sunlight and upwards towards the flickering bulbs.

The growth is sudden enough to take all but the most aware characters by surprise, and if they're in the wrong corner of the room, it's very easy to get tangled up, wedged in by a tree trunk, or otherwise trapped against some corner or wall. If you're lucky and skilled, you might be able to cut yourself out from there (or break down the wall you're shoved up against), but otherwise, there's only one solution left.

Yell like your life depends on it, and hope somebody out there can hear you. And that whoever hears is someone who is inclined to help, rather than leaving you there. Or worse.

Oh, and the lights flicker back off after a few minutes, of course. Hopefully you're not waiting for rescue in the dark (with the smell of mold and the general faint dampness of the forest) for too long.

TILT-A-WORLD

Occasionally, the whole ship tilts.

This is not simply the side to side motion of a ship on the water (or the equivalent motion brought on by the way this particular ship moves); it's an extremely forward or backward tilt that sends things sliding across the floor if they aren't secured by roots or something else. Unlike storm-tossed ships, the tilt is somewhat prolonged - rather than everything sliding back and forth a couple times a minute, the tilt lasts for five, ten, maybe as much as twenty minutes.

Although it's not enough to knock a well-balanced character off their feet, it's quite likely that new arrivals will not be particularly on-balance. And attempting to traverse the ship with the tilt is a tall order... especially when the ship's angle does unexpectedly change... to the exact opposite direction. All that goes up the mountain must go back down, and a glance out the windows reveals that that's exactly what's going on, as the ship progresses across a mountainous landscape without real regard for the concept of mountain passes.

And for characters who have managed to make their way to the "civilized" parts of the ship, namely the cafeteria and the lounge above it... None of the furniture in these areas is secured. The cafeteria carts under the direct control of the Ship don't seem as inclined to go anywhere, but the tables and chairs in the cafeteria and the couches and armchairs upstairs... Well, it's a good thing both spaces are surrounded by railings. Large chunks of tree trunk also still littler the lounge, sliding back and forth and occasionally rolling with great force across the floor.

Better hold on tight.

SOMETHING WHISTLING

While wandering around the ship's interior, characters might occasionally hear a person whistling.

The sound always seems to be coming from just around the corner, but it sounds alive in a way that other sounds don't. Maybe more alive, even, than the rustle of leaves, the occasional drip of water, and the sounds of things sliding back and forth across the grimy, leaf-covered floors. The whistler, whoever they are, doesn't actively respond if called out to - but the whistling does pause, as though indicating that the call was heard, before starting up again.

If characters choose to follow the whistling, they're inevitably led to the same place - somewhere overlooking the great gap down the middle of the ship, whether an internal suite's balcony, one of the bridges crossing between the two halves, or one of the hallways that runs alongside it. Once they're there, there's no whistler in sight; however, characters will be filled with the overwhelming urge to look over the edge of the railing and down into the lower parts of the ship.

Exactly what they experience after looking down varies. Some will hallucinate that they've fallen over the side, feeling their balance go haywire and seeing the floor rushing up to them right up until the moment of "impact," at which everything returns to normal. Some will feel a stranger's hands on their shoulders, threatening to push them over with a great shove that goes through them with incorporeal fingers. Some will just hear unidentifiable laughter right up close to their ears, and experience the distinct sensation that there's someone laughing at them, in a haha-made-you-look kind of way.

But whatever happens, when they look up, there's no one there - or at least not anyone that physically close to them. The one good thing about being drawn to the middle section of the ship by whatever prankster this is is that it makes it a lot easier to run into people if you're all drawn to the same, highly visible place.

And at least the other person is flesh and blood, right? Probably.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hm. You're the first new arrival I've met since the day the rest of us found ourselves here." She frowns. "I don't know what that means. I still don't know what or who is bringing us here, or why. Here is... some kind of enormous metal ship with legs? It doesn't seem to have a name. There's some kind of intelligence governing it, and it merely told us to call it 'Ship'." She feels a little easier with the obvious potential threat of his weapons away. He's probably perfectly nice, most everyone has been, but... still. If she had known there were going to be new arrivals, she might have taken someone up on the offer of company while she explored.

"My name is Lucia Corina," she adds as an afterthought, with a brief one-handed curtesy. "I can show you to the more... effectively reclaimed areas, if you'd like? There's food."

Okay. ... Uh. Okay. He's... trying to take all of that in. A giant ship? With legs? ... Okay that's weird, but... hm. He'd tuck his hands into his pockets if he had pockets, but he doesn't have any very good ones right at this moment. Not within reach, at least.

"I'm Fridtjof. Fridtjof Djt-bidit. ... I understand if that's too much for you, I know a lot of Hyur have trouble pronouncing Viera names." He's been called a number of things, some flattering and some... 'Fred'. "But food would be good! I just got up, after all."

"Do you prefer being called the whole thing?" She assumes by 'too much' he means the whole combination, anyway, it hasn't occurred to her that he means pronouncing it at all. "Lucia Corina is my name in full, I don't go by only part. My surname is... no longer relevant." Her face shadows for a moment, easily lost in the flickering candlelight. "What are Hyur? Or Viera? If you don't mind me asking."

She turns a little, gesturing with her lantern. "The stairs are this way--the cafeteria is on the top level."

"That's all right. And Fridtjof is what I'm usually called, when people can pronounce it." He tilts his head at the question, one ear flicking slightly in confusion. "... I'm a Viera? Long ears, tall, either extremely pale or fairly dark? And Hyur are... well, like you."

Is this another world? That would explain why she doesn't know what they mean. "But ah... let's eat. Things always look better over a meal."

Races, then? "Human, is what I would call what I am, at least in my world. And there are none like you there, at least that I have met or heard tell of." She pauses. Did she skip something important in her explanation? "Those who have found ourselves here were taken from a variety of different worlds. There are a few who knew each other before, but I am the only one from my world, and most things the others know are thoroughly foreign to me. Most of us here at least appear human, though there are exceptions." Like John. She still doesn't really know how he got them up that staircase.

She leads the way up the stairs and to the cafeteria. "The food is here-- there's always been a fair selection, since the storm stopped."

"Ah. Different worlds, that explains it." A lot of culture variance exists even in his own world. He can only imagine what other worlds are like! ... Actually he probably can't. He's not the thinker in the group - he's very much like Estinien in that way.

He seems mostly cheerful as they walk, though he's very clearly taking in the scenery. He hates be surprised - and he'd prefer to not have that happen to him. "Hm. And what - ah!" His eyes light up as he spots the dumplings. ... But he doesn't smell meat, and his ears droop slightly. "Ah..." He can deal with that, though - he picks up a few on a plate and grabs some... oh. No chopsticks. A fork will do. Time to find a table... he sits down and pulls his gloves off for better movement.

Edited 2024-03-19 23:35 (UTC)

Oh, his ears are... very expressive. Clearly disappointed in some way by the food.

Lucia Corina takes some toast and jam, just to have something, and sits down across from Fridtjof. Attempting to give him a slightly familiar face to ask questions of, if he has more. "I'm glad there's food now," she says after a few bites. "I had enough in my pack to get through the storm with, but I was quickly running low, and I'm not sure how much anyone else had."

"Yes, it can be an issue when food supplies run low." He pops a dumpling in his mouth and chews it, swallowing before he speaks again. "Morale is an important thing! It's very frustrating when there's nothing to eat. I had to learn how to hunt when I was young so I try to make sure whoever I'm accompanying doesn't have that issue. I spent many moons learning how to attack prey from the shadows."

He looks over her curiously, chuckling a little bit. "Though I wouldn't expect someone who isn't a Viera to know much about the ways of the Wood. And unfortunately it's not as if I can take you to visit."

Carnivorous... rabbit man? She wonders idly whether this is what the rabbit Casper mentioned was like, or if it was a rabbit-shaped rabbit.

The word 'Wood' spoken with significance puts her a little on edge, but she tries to suppress it, especially since he's from some other world where it almost certainly doesn't mean anything like wood elves. "Regretfully, none of us can show any of the others anything of our worlds. I've been told about some incredible sounding things, but all we have is the ship. There's a bubble around it, apparently protecting us from hazards outside, we cannot even debark to see more of this world." She keeps remembering things she should probably mention. "Not that there appears to be much to see, out there, only lifeless wastes."

"I see. I've seen some lifeless wastes in my time, but unfortunately I don't have the skills to fix anything like that on my own. My command of aether is only so strong." He's not like, a deity. Much as he wishes he could be one to protect the Warrior of Light...

"But... ah. Even if we were able to be in my world, I couldn't show you. That's... what I meant. Those who leave the Wood are banished forever." He glances down at his food for a moment before looking up at her again. "I had a good reason to leave, but I still cannot return. Even helping to save existence doesn't qualify you for an exception, it seems."

"...Aether? The... firmament? You can command it? And a strong enough command could fix a lifeless waste?" She has a lot of questions.

[just looked up the etymology of aether and in the late 14th century, so near contemporaneous with Lucia Corina's nation's inspiration period, it referred to like... the firmanent. basically to outer space. please enjoy this miscommunication.]

"...Oh, I'm sorry." She feels the worse now, for reminding him. "Not being able to return home is... a difficult burden to bear." He may be able to hear, from the grief in her voice, that she speaks from more than mere compassion.

"The... huh? No, the - Mist. The energy around us. I'm no Archon, I couldn't tell you how all of it works, but the different elements and the umbral and astral polarities... they all need to be in balance. If they aren't, then a calamity occurs - and a world is destroyed as it merges with our own."

Maybe he shouldn't be saying that, but... well. He's never had the greatest of filters.

The apology makes him chuckle and he shakes his head. "It's all right. I'm... a bit of an odd one for leaving, but there was someone who left before me that I admired. And they inspired me to take up the sword and shield and protect others. My people are not terribly numerous even in our home, but there are enough to protect themselves and each other. The wider world, however, seems in need of protectors. ... And so I answered the call." Sure, the training he endured was often fatal, but it prepared him for more than just a life of being a Wood-warder.

More things for Lucia Corina to be confused by! "I'm not sure what... any of those things are, but that does seem bad. World destruction."

"Wanting to protect is a noble goal." She smiles at him a little. "Are you a knight? You've the look of one."

"... Uh." He's not sure how else to explain it. "Do you have elemental energy where you're from?" They have to, right?

A... knight. "Close. I'm a paladin. A free paladin, specifically. Not one of those who protect the Sultana, though she's quite kind and deserves protection. But I'm one who roams the world, helping people where I can and taking odd jobs when I need."

"Probably? I'm afraid I'm not a magic-worker, I have little knowledge of how such things are performed." Rue could throw sparks, was that an elemental spell? Lucia Corina has no idea.

"A noble calling indeed, to devote all your time to the aid of others. I'm only a poet."

"Ah, it's all right. I only really know what I was taught. I do have the capacity to heal and use some specific elements though I admit I'm not... terribly good at it." Never mind that he'd managed to claw secrets out of the elementals themselves. "But think of it like a scale. One side tips too far and the whole thing tips over, yes?"

Noble? Ah... that gets a little color to his cheeks. "I'm - I wouldn't call myself noble. Only a very devoted admirer of someone, I suppose. Not that - not in that way, of course. But like an older sibling. ... And maybe I'll commission you to write a poem about them. Though I'm afraid my gil might not be very useful here."

"Healing is a useful magic to have, if one is to have any." But the metaphor is helpful. "Ah, so the different types of magical energy must all be held in balance?"

"Spending your life on the aid of others is noble, whatever the motivation." What else could it possibly be? "I've little use for money here, and there's plenty of food and dry places to sleep, so I've no need to charge for anything, really. I'd be glad to write a saga or ballad about your admired one."

"Yes, exactly. Or so it's been explained to me. I... can channel it, I just don't know how to explain it well." He's trying, bless him.

The color deepens and he coughs delicately, trying desperately to fight his blush. "They're... amazing. They've saved existence - and myself - more times than they really needed to. Really, I wish they'd take a break sometimes..."

"It's all right, you needn't explain your whole world--Mario and I have gotten endlessly confused trying to work out explanations more than once. And it's not here, anyway, so we might as well just leave it lie, at least for the nonce."

The flush is harder to see on Fridtjof's dark skin than such would be on Lucia Corina's pale mien, but she can see a touch of it. His admiration seems fervent and rather sweet. "They sound quite impressive indeed, I look forward to hearing of their deeds." She smiles at him, sweet and a little teasing. "Do you take breaks, from saving smaller worlds?" Every person is a world in themselves, after all.

"I - well. I think my abilities should still work here, so either way it's fine." As long as he can summon giant swords to stab his enemies it's all good.

Anyway. "We do try. Often we Scions - or former Scions, as the case might be now - end up in dramatic events just due to one of our number seemingly be a magnet for trouble." His tone is light though, clearly more amused than annoyed. "But we do take breaks in between things where we can. Usually it's when some of the others are researching a problem. I'm... no academic, so I just end up picking up odd jobs like guarding caravans. Even if I'd stayed in the Wood there wouldn't have been a lot of 'breaks', since my role would have been to be a guardian of the jungle. So I was prepared for a life without much of a break, anyway."

"As far as I know, everyone's abilities still work as expected? I just... haven't any, other than music." A trace of resignation, her eyes flicker, but she continues the conversation without issue. She doesn't really want to be other than what she is, she just... feels very small, in the company she has found herself in. She's more used to being around ordinary folk. Kane was a bodyguard, and Rue had some minor magics, but Deorwine was only a showman, more similar to her in many ways than he wasn't. (And vastly more different, in others, to be fair.)

"Scions of what?" How can you be a former scion of something? Was he disowned when he was exiled?

"Music is a good skill! I can't sing worth a bag of nuts." ... It's a valid form of currency! Just ask those people who hunt down monsters. But in any case. "And I can't rhyme very well, either. I tried to make a poem once when we were in Kugane. I could tell the locals were... amused. Probably laughed about it behind my back." He shrugs, unbothered by it. It's just not his skill.

... Right, that word has another meaning. "The Scions of the Seventh Dawn. They are - were, sorry - an apolitical group that helped whenever some world-shaking crisis emerged. Whether it was beating back the Garlean Empire, helping to stop a war, helping to win two others... or even stopping the end of the world. We were there as best we could be. I joined a bit later than many of the others, but I seem to have at least had a certain skill they were looking for." Though not skilled enough to save a friend from permanent damage... if he'd only been on that mission...

Bah. Focusing on the past won't help. "Sorry if I'm being confusing. To be fair, it took a while for me to get a handle on things, myself."

"There are other kinds of poem," Lucia Corina offers. "But not everyone is skilled in all things--I couldn't fight to save my life." Fairly literally, though her opponents were time and magic and plants, which are generally harder things to fight.

"An order of paladins, then?" She's assuming they're all like him--it sounds like their goals are the same, protecting others? "You sound an impressive lot, to triumph against so many such catastrophes."

"That's okay. I'm terrible at academics in general. Most of the rest of our group are... very smart." It doesn't help when a lot of them spent a lot of time in the country with the highest concentration of nerds per capita.

He briefly entertains the idea of Estinien as a paladin and snickers. "No, no. Many different fighting styles. But the idea isn't too far off - protect the weak and keep the strong in check."

"Very few have the skills or the opportunity for academic study!" Formal schooling is for... mostly nobles. She's certainly never had any. "I am sure your talents in other areas are commensurate."

"Ah, so a paladin is a specific kind of fighter, not only a protector? I apologize, there are so many different ways language is used by people from other worlds... I am struggling to keep up more than I would like." Lucia Corina glances down, a little insecure. She hates not understanding things.

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