Pluviosa Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pluviosamods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pluviooc2024-03-18 02:45 pm
pluviosamods) wrote in pluviooc2024-03-18 02:45 pm
Entry tags:
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!
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...
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.
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.
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.
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.
no subject
There's a shift in the emotionality of the person before him, as best as he can tell without the medium of water (blood) involved.
"I have no taste for practical jokes on such a level," is what he says, and if that's taking the last comment a bit literally, well. Sometimes it's better to be too-literal than risk misunderstanding. "This ship travels across a world called Matye, though I doubt that has any meaning to you. Any other signs of civilization are unknown to use, if they exist - by the Ship's records, it has been around three hundred years since there were any passengers before the group of us who awoke here two weeks ago."
He answers the questions matter-of-factly, regardless of the way they were phrased. If they were intended to just be rhetorical... Well, they're questions that would have come up in genuine senses before long, anyway.
no subject
"Three hundred years, huh? What the hell has this ship been doing in all that time - and why did we all start waking up here now? If you even have those answers..."
Hey, he lucked out that this guy has any answers at all.
"...What's your name, anyway? You 'in charge' here, or something?"
no subject
That much, he feels, is definitely reliable. He can't sense emotions from the Ship directly, of course, to help his assessment on the matter, but that's fine. He tries to rely only on the evidence of his the senses that humans would understand, anyway, because doing otherwise becomes difficult to explain, and emotions can throw false positives easily. Anyone would be anxious if not terrified to be on the defendant's stand; it does not mean they are guilty.
"My name is Neuvillette, and I am the Chief Justice of Fontaine in my home world of Teyvat. However, there is no one 'in charge' here - rather pointless, when there are less than twenty of us."
malos stop making me write long tags challenge
This man is being exceedingly helpful. Well, might as well make use of it. Even humans can be tools, if you use them right.
"Sounds like you're a pretty big deal back home!" Malos laughs, like he's making fun. 'Chief Justice' sounds like a fancy Mor Ardain title - on par with 'High Inquisitor'. It doesn't mean much to Malos, though; human laws have never exactly applied to him. "The name's Malos - I was a pretty big deal back home, too, but that's neither 'here' nor 'there'."
He's not much of an Aegis with a cracked core crystal, anyway. ...Then again, being an Aegis is probably the only reason the crack hasn't killed him outright.
"...someone must be in charge, though. That's just how humans work. Sure, your little group might not have a designated 'leader', but there still must be someone you listen to - or at least someone who makes the rules." For humans, it's the law. For him, it's--
(gone, silent, null input, emptiness in his brain, quiet where he didn't know there could be quiet,)
"Well, I guess it must be the Ship, then?"
no subject
"A pleasure, Malos." He is, among other things, polite to the occasional fault. That doesn't mean, however, that he doesn't have strongly held beliefs. "However, ultimately, I'm afraid you're mistaken. Humans seek to create positions of authority to stabilize societies and to resolve disputes - and at least thus far, we've had no need of either. There are not 'rules,' either."
Someone who expects there to be someone making the rules is also someone who expects that there will be someone enforcing them, no doubt. Neuvillette adds, "Although the Ship seems to have its own rules that it follows, it has not explained them to us, nor enforced much of anything upon us. Aside from providing food and clean quarters, it has largely left us to our own devices."
no subject
What does it matter? His driver is dead now.
"So it's every man for himself, then? Sounds fantastic. All humans know how to do is fight, you know. Eventually something will happen. Food will grow short. Space will run out. Disagreements escalate into something more. Sure, you haven't seen it yet - but I give it a month; maybe three."
His driver may be dead, but he's watched humans for long enough that he has to agree with that man on one thing - humanity doesn't deserve anything less than the destruction they claw for, anyway... Or, something like that.
(that hunger, that certainty... was it not really his own?)
"The Ship's a fool for not putting any rules down - what kind of Ship is it, anyway?"
If he explored, he would probably realize it was a cruise ship fast enough, but he hasn't gotten far in exploring, yet. So.
no subject
If he were a betting man, he'd take that bet, Malos. As it is, there is something admiring for the humanity he isn't quite a part of, even so. It isn't as though he hasn't seen bitter people like Malos before, and he's sure that the other man will think him naive and dismiss his words.
That's all the more reason to be firm, and to continue to be exactly what he is. Words can only do so much to change a person's mind; it is actions that matter, and actions take time.
"As for the question - a walking one, built primarily of metal, apparently originally as either a passenger or research vessel. The technology is more advanced than I am familiar with, and the growth of the plants onboard appears to be supernatural in origin."
no subject
Rex and his little party doesn't count, because expecting five humans and their blades to agree on something is piss easy odds. And it's not like their loyalties were really tested - Malos was giving them a pretty good common enemy to work against, and when he wasn't, his idiot driver - or - that man, Amalthus, was.
The ship, anyway... "Walking, huh?" Malos takes a glance around, really analyzes it. "Has the trappings of a cruise ship, that's for sure, but I guess researchers take what they can get..." The look he levels Nuevillette is unimpressed. "Let me guess: you don't know what kind of research, and the ship isn't telling? If you know where the bridge is - the controls - you should let me at it. Maybe I can get some info out of it." What kind of tecnology is there that he can't bully into working? None. Duh.
no subject
"Agricultural, actually, which explains the presence of the plants - I imagine they're research specimens that have gone feral over the intervening centuries. The last human or human-like presence on board was over three centuries ago, according to what the Ship was willing to tell us." It's keeping lots of secrets, certainly, but that one at least was clear enough even before they were able to access the more food-oriented decks. "As for a central control area, no one has yet discovered one."