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pluviooc2024-03-18 02:45 pm
pluviosamods) wrote in pluviooc2024-03-18 02:45 pm
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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!
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
The rain does little to soothe the anger in his heart, swelling like an ocean tide and furious as a typhoon. "I know not whence they became so corrupt, but it must be rooted out. And it must start at the top, with the most corrupt." Yes, there's terrible people at the bottom - Mami's landlord wasn't a great person, for instance - but he's smart enough to know that the source of trouble is usually at the top of the food chain, not the bottom.
... That being said, he doesn't intend to stop with just them. "... We canst not abide a world that would do such terrible things to their own. We cannot condone the continuation of life in a world that would torture and kill just to curse their enemies. We cannot! The very thought disgusts me!" Him. Probably his other half, too. He doesn't know. He's never been complete. "How canst thou claim there to be any justice in a world that would do such a thing? How canst thou claim that they art anything but vain, ignorant, prideful, selfish, foolish creatures? They art beneath us. Those of that world... they art the Fading Ones. They art not... they... doth not deserve our mercy..."
He pulls the bells close to his chest, dipping his head. He's so frustrated. Why can't this one see?
no subject
Neuvillette says, his voice full of the emotion that does not show on his face (but does surely show, to those who know what to look for), "Because I have seen them make that justice with their own hands. How can I look upon those who are willing to sacrifice everything they have, for the sake of people who will never thank them, and call them selfish? How could I hear centuries of their weeping, and not wish to make it a little less?"
Perhaps the world has been kinder to him. But it was not kinder to Wriothesley, to Navia and her father, to Carole and Vautrin, to Furina.
"In my world," he says, "humans are the creations of the Heavenly Principles, the usurper who slaughtered my ancient kindred to create the gods. And those same Heavenly Principles declared that the humans of Fontaine were all guilty of unpardonable sin, simply for being born in a way they did not devise."
Every equal to Fou-Lu's rage is the tempered steel in Neuvillette's voice when he speaks of the usurper. It is the drawing out of the wave before a tsunami.
"For close to five hundred years, I have sat, overseeing judgement in the Court of Fontaine. In the name of the God of Justice, I handed out verdict and sentence to the best and the worst of humanity. For hundreds of years, my ears have been filled with the sounds of souls that cry out for justice, just as you do."
His voice drops, to something that can only barely be heard over the (pounding, splattering, pouring) rain. "And on the very last day, even as the waters rose, that god asked of me, When you regain your full power as an elemental sovereign, what verdict shall you pass upon us?"
He does not give his answer. It is as obvious now as it was at that moment. That Fou-Lu is from another world, one which is, he can only hope, beyond the gaze of the heavens, is the only reason he would speak of her at all.
"I will not insult you by claiming that my words alone should be enough to convince you. You are in pain, and that pain is justified. But neither will I condone bringing that pain to bear against those who have done you and your loved ones no harm. To do so would make you no better than those you claim to condemn - and those who I pass judgement upon in the courthouse every day."
no subject
He listens closely to the other's tale. A dragon of justice, that surely must understand... he surely must understand that this cannot be allowed! This abomination of injustice, this horrific ignominy... surely he must know what kind of verdicts must be cast on the wicked. Surely he must know how they must be punished. The corruption cannot simply be a single source...
"What shouldst I then do, elder brother? I canst not ignore this transgression. And I hath already made a ruling. The Imperial Capital already lay half in ruins. I wert awaiting mine other half there. ... Those that took up arms against me... many of them lie dead now. Not all, but many." There were a few left. A few... left...
He stumbles, vision suddenly blurring for a moment again. 'Loved ones'? No. No, that can't be right. He's no mortal, he doesn't have loved ones, he -
Fou-Lu catches himself as he falls to one knee mostly by instinct, blinking heavily. His grip on the bells remains tight, but he coughs into the back of his hand wrap. ... Ah. Blood again.
no subject
But it was his choice. Leviathan Judicator rises in the heavens in the place abandoned by Damocles Sola, in the place of a god, and he would not make a different decision now.
"What you should do," he says, with the air of someone who might well be an elder brother, at least to one little
humangod in particular, "is have more care of your health when handling items that contain so powerful a curse."The rain has not stopped, and his robe is soaked through. And even though they seem headed for conflict, perhaps inevitably, Neuvillette also cannot not be the person who crouches in turn to allow Fou-Lu to take his arm, if he needs it, if he decides that he can bear it.
All anyone can ever do, truly, is reach out, and hope that it is enough to change someone's path.
"As I have said, I will not claim that my words alone should be enough to convince you, and ultimately, every person's actions are their own, for good or ill. All I can do is ask that you be willing to give them a chance - if not those of your home world, at least the people here."
no subject
The other dragon is in front of him. He's reaching out - reaching out towards Fou-Lu. But he can't take it, he can't - his pride, his worth as a dragon and a god... he shakes his head and pushes himself to his feet, tucking the bells away. He can't let them leave him. He can't let them - but why? ... Why? He's not sure.
The cold is starting to get to even him, but the shudder is less from it than from his own feelings. He rolls his shoulders back and tries to regain his composure. "Those here hath not sinned against us or against the world in general. And if this world doth contain gods, they shouldst be the ones to sit in judgement."
See? At least someone understands jurisdictions."But living amongst them... as their better, I hath done so for many decades. As an equal... not." So. This is awkward."If they shouldst attack me I wilt retaliate in kind. But I wilt not hunt them down without reason to do so." He's just. Going to be awkward about it. Because how do you common folk? "... Though I know not if they - well. They wilt not know mine name as someone to be aware of."
no subject
"If she is half the person you so regard, she wouldn't wish for you to bring harm to yourself to make a point, either," Neuvillette says, voice more gentle. He stands easily, moving as though completely unaffected by the rain, except for how it weighs down his hair. "Just be careful of them. The emotions contained therein are palpable to my senses even at this distance."
He can't assume that another dragon is capable of the same sorts of things, especially one who draws no distinction between their kind and the gods. Such is the furthest thing from Neuvillette's case, after all, and the faint shift of his expression when Fou-Lu mentions that local gods should be the ones to sit in judgement perhaps betrays a bit of his normally opaque thoughts.
Perhaps the rain lightens a bit, at the twist of irony on his lips.
"Humans come in an infinite variety, which makes those of them who are a bit more worldly tolerant of even the oddnesses of those who are not their kind," he says. "Not that either you or I looks so very different from them, in the grand scheme of things. They took me as one of their own for some time before my lack of aging became too obvious to ignore." That was a very long time ago, of course.
no subject
Translation: Why the hell are 90% of the people here the same species, that's just Wrong.
"I had been known as a god in mine time, though these last centuries of slumber hath clearly changed the world. We told the people we would one day return, and only some of them seemeth to have remembered such. ... Unfortunately, not those whose company I would have welcomed." And how they had known the exact date... he's not sure. "But those who welcomed God-Emperor Fou-Lu's return wert more... discourteous."
no subject
After all, gods appear to be human even to the trained eye, in many cases.
The rain is beginning to lighten up. Neuvillette says, "Although I have had people question in recent days whether or not I was a god, the identities of 'god' and 'dragon' are mutually exclusive on Teyvat. Until recently, I believe that most humans believed dragons to be found only in stories and ancient history, rather than beings that might yet live among them."
But then, you know, Stormterror and all that. Mondstadt's dragon certainly made an impression and brought the idea back ton the forefront of most people's minds, even if many outside the nation of the wind tend to think it's an overblown rumor.
no subject
The Endless... "Amongst mine own kind I still art young, even though I hath lived for centuries. Mine other half wouldst be even younger still. Mere months old... I do not know what hath befallen him, though I do know he wert alive and moving toward the Empire when I last wert able to sense his presence." And now he can't, and there's a hole there, even worse than the ragged half-soul he'd had before - because what's worse than being empty is knowing that you could be whole and then being dragged away from it.
"The Endless doth not show themselves to mortals after their task be complete, as far as is known to me. Many still revere them - 'tis well known that one of the Eastern Kingdoms hath a shrine to the Wind Dragon. The others... I imagine that worship wouldst be varied depending upon the people."
no subject
He hums, and adds, "The eldest of the gods, Morax, is at least six thousand years old, and as far as humans are concerned the oldest being on Teyvat. The Hydro Archon is the youngest, just shy of her five hundredth birthday."
The planned celebration of which, already under planning for half a decade, has been severely derailed by recent happenings. At least he still has most of a year to figure out what to do about that.
"It is commonly believed that mortals who have ascended to godhood enter Celestia, the civilization in the heavens - but as to the truth of that matter, it is impossible to determine. It is true that the gods were once far more populous than they are now, however, and their numbers do not exceed seven now. When the god of one nation dies, they are replaced, and that alone is when a new god comes onto the stage."
no subject
A civilization in the heavens... "I know not what happens to mortals once they die, though some few turn into restless spirits and monsters. As for 'replacement'... mortals art the ones who summon us, and the ones who possess the true ritual of summoning art not amongst the Empire's people. I do not know if there art any on the continent at the moment... but it matters not." His course is still set, though he won't hurt the people here. There'd be no point.
"... Though these fading ones hath not called gods that I know of in the years since mine own summoning. It might be possible that they hath done so, but I wouldst not be aware of it."
no subject
Neuvillette considers the information, and then finally says, "Perhaps that would be something worth looking into when you return." It is not an if, at least not for him, not yet. "If nothing else, they would probably be better placed to advise you than one who knows nothing of your world."
no subject
"... Regardless, I hath no ill will against the mortals here. There shouldst be no fear for them from myself, at least."