pluviooc | TEST DRIVE 02

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*tdm

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

"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.

"True, though I know a lot of learned people." He's not insecure about it, though. He grew up differently and that's okay.

He nods and smiles at her, pushing a dumpling over towards her. "It's all right. I struggled a lot when I went to another world. It's fine."

"I love learning, and knowing things, I'm just... self-trained, perhaps I would put it as? I am a competent historian at home, but... not here." She gives a faintly resentful glance at the impossibly clear and enormous expanse of glass wall.

She smiles back and takes the dumpling. "Well, if you say so. I've no prior experience moving between worlds. You have before? Was it apurpose, or were you abducted like this?"

"I was tutored in my younger years - not that I'm not young still - but it was in the ways of the Wood, not really... the academics. I can read and write of course, but not a lot more. History is... I know the history of my people and of the Vii, but past that I don't really have a historical specialty."

Anyway. "It was an accident. He was aiming for someone else. I was almost but not quite the right person, so he kept trying until he got them. My soul was pulled near-clean from my body. Apparently his technique was fairly lacking. ... Though I'm certainly not qualified to comment on that. ... But it feels like we've been summoned here bodily, as best I can tell."

"I know the history of Vankrik well for the last several centuries, I can identify artifacts from all the peoples thereof and their approximate age, I know of many of the gods and traditions and the battles and... but none of that matters here. Worse than the gap in my knowledge after--" She cuts herself off, face shadowing. So much time lost. She goes on, dropping that line of thought. "I couldn't even tell what the walls here were made of, until someone told me--it never occurred to me that someone might use so much metal to such a mundane purpose. One could outfit a king's army from the walls of a single room here."

"Were you out of body long? That sounds... distressing."

"It's all right. I've not seen a ship made out of metal this large, though I have seen metal buildings that are very large. There's a lot of things here that are already confusing but... I'm not going to let that slow me down." He grins at her. Come on, cheer up friend!

Hm. That's a tough thing to answer. "It was about six years... except where I was from it was no more than a few weeks. The time between shards and the Source can get... off, from what I've been told. The shards are basically reflections of one world - the Source - that were broken off in an event a long time ago. The worlds are connected, though gods only know how that works. I sure don't."

"I still don't understand why one would make a ship of metal, even if one had the... magic necessary to make it float? And why would you make a building of metal--were they often besieged?" She smiles back, a little shakily, but she's trying. "I'm trying to... catch up, there's just so much-- I don't even know where to begin, it's all so alien."

"Are you... from the Source world, and were taken to a shard? Regardless... six years is a long time to lose, to experience and... grow away from those you knew." Not the same as her time lost, nearly the opposite in fact, but... It echoes, it rhymes. Her fingers twitch for a moment, though her zither is safely in her pack. There's something there, almost, that could be sung. Easier to look at, through a mirror.

"I don't... know if ships have magic? But I don't know anything about metal ships." He just shrugs and shakes his head. "As for the buildings... they were often besieged by those they invaded." Yes, the civilians didn't do anything wrong - but he's still uncomfortable with the alliance.

He nods at her assessment of the situation. "Yes, that's about right. It's a long time for... most? I suppose? But we Viera live a very long time. To a hyur - ah, 'human' - I would count as an old man." It's kind of funny to him.

"Mario said it was magic when I asked how metal could float." She shrugs a little. "I'd never seen so much metal all in one place. A king's ransom."

And the buildings... "Being often besieged sounds terrifying."

And she's curious now. "How long do Viera live? How old are you? If it's not too rude to ask."

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I don't know much about technological achievements - that's not really my area of expertise."

He makes a somewhat irritated face at the idea of the Garleans being terrified but... well. He's aware there's good Garleans. There's a reason he wasn't asked to be part of the diplomatic effort. He's aware that they're a diverse people and that many of the soldiers in their ranks didn't even want to fight. It doesn't stop the fact that they destroyed Rabanastre and so many other places and people. He takes a deep breath to refocus before he continues.

"Ah. We live for three centuries easily, provided nothing else strikes us down first. It contributes to our culture of keeping history and traditions alive through practice."

"Goodness. That is a great span indeed. Humans must seem very young and silly, in comparison." She knows the elves certainly think so. He doesn't seem like them, though. "History is valuable. I do my best to learn all I can of it."

"They tend to be, yes. But it's simply the way you are - I have no ill will towards them for it. It's what they do with those lifespans I sometimes have issue with, but that's more of a case by case basis. ... In any case, we are the keepers of a long line of history. The Vii in the First were much the same, which is why I stayed with them when I was there." Also it was... a lot more comfortable - they didn't seem to mind that he was the sole male in the area. Maybe because of a lack of mating ability, but whatever.

"Are many of the humans--hyur-- on your world very... violent?" She can understand having some trepidation towards a race, how could she not? "The Vii are similarly long-lived?"

"Vii live a long time as well, yes. And they can be. Many races can be, in their own way. I suppose I shouldn't speak as if they're all one unit, being part of disparate nations. The Garleans however... they're a race that look like hyur but are utterly unable to use ae - ah, magicks. They turned their sights towards technological advancements, fueled by the machinations of one of a race who lived many times longer than ours."

That's... that's a whole Thing. He doesn't really want to get into it right now. He tears into another dumpling and chews. "But enough about me - what is it like where you're from?"

"There are several races as well. Humans, gobelins, dwarves, deep elves, sun elves, and... wood elves." A shadow crosses her face, but she shakes it off and continues. "I'm a traveling musician, playing at inns for my supper, as well as an aspiring historian. Mostly the different races live separately, though not entirely. I traveled for a time with a gobelin and two sun elves, though mostly human towns. Deorwine, the gobelin, was a traveling showman, with a cart full of curiosities--he was thoroughly delighted when he managed to hit a ghost with a stick and could thenceforth tell the tale of his ghost-hitting stick."

[you know grunkle stan. that's the vibe on deorwine. rock that looks like a face rock.]

"I see! I've fought spirits before - ashkin and the like. But a ghost-hitting stick sounds like quite the tale. But a bard, then? How interesting! I know of several bards... I know a lot of them where I'm from are skilled archers as well. I'm skilled with an arrow, though I've never had formalized training like that."

He tilts his head slightly, considering her. "I appreciate bards - they're always a welcome addition to the tavern. Even if I do end up singing along when I get a few in me... badly."

"I don't think hitting Gulda with a stick really accomplished anything, but he did appear to find it very satisfying. The real solution was recovering and returning her grave goods, not violence."

"I've no skill in combat, I'm afraid--only song and story. Bards generally have more... formalized training than I, and some sort of patron. I'm only a wanderer, and primarily self-taught in most everything." Unless you count the Lady as a patron, and she'd really rather not.

"I'm always happy to play, though I'm afraid it would be difficult to take requests from our disparate company--I doubt I know any song with which anyone else is familiar."

"Hey, not everyone has formalized training. Most of mine was with mentors, but even then there's skills I learned on my own." He kind of had to - survivalist skills are paramount when you live in the wilderness. He got some tutoring, but there's a reason not everyone survives that training.

Hm... songs... "I'm not the best at singing but I could definitely try to teach you some songs. You might have to adjust some of the notes to make up for me being out of tune, but..." He grins at her and chuckles.

"I'm good enough to make my living, and that's what matters, more than my scattershot training from anyone passing through. It's odd, here, that I don't have to-- the Ship just gives us food." She recalls her toast and nibbles on a bit of it. "I'm not quite sure what to do with myself, with bed and board provided."

"I'd happily learn any songs of your home that you care to teach. I always wish to add to my repertoire." She smiles back. It's good to have met another so friendly face, aboard this strange place.

"Exactly. You're good at what you do and you keep improving. ... Being just given food rather than having to purchase or hunt it is strange to me as well. I've been staying as a guest where I've been based out of lately, but it's not... comfortable for me. I prefer being on the road, eating at dirty inns with other travelers rather than at tables with foreign dignitaries."

He's lucky that the ruler of Doma feels similarly. The times the two of them have slipped out to go hunt tigers or some such thing are... more than his keepers would like, for certain. "Growing up we had a few in the Wood-watchers who were good with music. Singing or a flute usually, but sometimes a harp... what is it that you play?"

"Are your innkeepers all so busy or uncaring that they cannot clean?" There's suppressed laughter in her voice, eyes sparkling with humor. "I must say I prefer clean inns, especially when I'm sleeping on the floor next to the fire."

"My instrument is a zither--are you familiar? Several here haven't been. And I sing as well, of course."

"Oh, no. I mean more... mayhaps dirty wasn't the correct word. 'Rough', perhaps? Or 'dingy'. I'm no wordsmith like some people I know." Sleeping on the floor? He's done that too. And the dirt.

Zither... zither... "The name doesn't ring a bell, no."

"Humble or poor, are the sort I am usually in." She's only offered an actual room if there are no paying customers to take it, or if a customer offers to share--next to the fire in winter, or in the stables in summer, are generally where she sleeps. The roof is the important part, really.

"Easier to show you than explain, really." She pulls her pack off of her back, setting it on the floor, and lifts out her zither, carefully unwrapping it and holding it up a little for him to inspect. "This is a zither." She sets it in her lap, then, and plucks a few bars of of a tune as example, a sea shanty--she keeps having shanties on the mind, even knowing they are not at sea.

"Well, given this place I hope you'll be able to have a warmer and softer place to sleep." He smiles at her and looks at the instrument.

... Huh. He shakes his head. "I haven't seen one of that shape, no. I've seen similarly stringed instruments before, but not one that looks like that." His ears perk up a little at the tune. It sounds a little like something he's heard before, though not quite...

"Now, when the big liner, she's clear of land
Our bosun he roars out the word of command

Come quickly, lay aft to the break of the poop
Or I'll help you along with the toe of me boot!"

He laughs a bit, high and surprisingly young-sounding. "I've spent enough time amongst the sailors of Limsa Lominsa to recognize a shanty when I hear one."

"Since the storm ended, it's been very comfortable, really. The beds are astonishing! And the weather quite mild."

She laughs along with him and sings a chorus.

"Blow the man down to me, blow the man down
To me way, hey, blow the man down
Blow him right back to Gotreidford town,
Give me some time to blow the man down!"

Her voice is light and clear, somewhat at odds with the song.

"I can't help but think of shanties, knowing that we're on a ship, even though it's not upon a sea. They spring easily to mind, here."

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WAIT THIS IS MY OPPORTUNITY TO BRING UP THE MARIO SAID THE SHIP FLOATED BY MAGIC THING

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