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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.
trying so hard not to metagame with ratio here
He glances at Sunday through his peripheral vision. With a deliberate pause, he addresses Sunday's concerns.
"From what I have heard and found, there are laundry rooms at the bottom floor of the residential deck with cleaning supplies. If that's where you wish to go, then merely say the word and I will lead you there and then to the lounge area after. From there you can help yourself to the amenities there and the cafeteria on the upper decks above." He clinically explains and telegraphs his actions to Sunday. He hasn't forgotten how overly cautious the Oak Family leader was, rightfully so admittedly but still excessive given the way Aventurine offered himself on a silver platter to the Family.
He's intentionally dancing around the question of the matter, giving himself time to observe the halovian's demeanor. As well as the illustrious man tries to retain his composure, he could tell the environment and situation had his feathers in disarray. He pauses at the stairwell, waiting at the junction between going up to the upper decks where the lounge and cafeteria are and going down to retrieve supplies for cleanliness.
... He's not tactless enough to pluck a frazzled bird's feathers for his own amusement though, no matter his thoughts on the man.
"Do you not recall the events yourself? I suggest you start with what you know first before I start filling in the details." Veritas does briefly wonders where he would even begin with. Would he start with the seventeen system hours before the Charmony Festival? Or perhaps the aftermath of the incident in the Clock Studio Theme Park? Or would he rather hear about what happened to the Charmony Festival right under his nose?
Vertias' jaw tenses as he recalled his last memories of Penacony before coming here. The confusion, the dizzying nausea of getting up too quickly from a dream that felt far too long, and the eerie quiet of the Hotel Reverie bleeding with so much memoria it worsened his vertigo with catatonic guests standing moronically in place, imprisoned in their own heads—.
And then a song. Harmony's hymn— no, a ballad was being sung.
How soothing.
He remembers his racing mind quelling at the melody...
"The last thing I recall before finding myself here was waking to a song. Miss Robin's song." He answers finally. "I was going to follow it to its source, but then I... drifted off along the way. Perhaps." He says the latter half with much dismay and reluctance, wondering how he could have made a costly blunder like that.
no subject
"Thank you, learned Doctor. Your assistance in this is appreciated."
Though he's more than certain that Veritas was not pleased with him for what he'd done to Aventurine, he could respect that the other man was attempting to be helpful. If they must discuss it, surely it could be held off until later, when they were both on some level of equal ground, here. Sunday follows him, choosing in the moment that his best option is to trust the other man.
"My recollection of events seems to be scattered. Moments I remember from my childhood are all mixed up within this, too. But..."
Sunday closing his eyes and breathing. Ordering his memories from what seemed more recent, following a logical progression of events, as far as he could tell.
"I remember finding my little sister dead. I remember enacting the consecration on your friend, Aventurine. The Seventeen system hours I gave him. I also remember... That man."
His name and face escaped Sunday, but he feels like. Perhaps if he saw him again, he would know. His fists clench, but he's not sure what to feel. Anger, frustration, how could he validate his own feelings on the man when he couldn't remember a name or a face?
"I confronted him in Dewlight Pavilion. I accused him of killing my sister. I... I called him a minion of the Enigmata. He... did something to me."
Something slicing through him, piercing his chest. There was more, wasn't there? A red headed stranger. Puppets. His father. A dreamscape he'd never seen, never known. A song... The sensation of falling. Sunday's head throbbed. He hisses softly, reaching up to clutch at his head for a moment, breathing deeply.
"I get... momentary glimpses of other events, when I think about it. I feel that they're real. I'm not sure why they're important enough for my mind to latch onto them."
The halovian listens to Ratio's most recent memory, before here, before this, and his brows furrow. Robin's song... They'd both heard it, then, surely? What did it mean? What did any of it mean? He notices that Ratio doesn't seem wholly... comfortable with his own memory, either. Like he wasn't sure, himself. An oversight on both of their parts, then.
no subject
Enigmata. So they had their hands in this event too. This could become quickly an issue to reliably recollect the happenings of Penacony. But more importantly, his expression scrunches up at the sight of Sunday’s onset pain and the admittance that he can’t fully recall the rest of the events with confidence after confronting the agent of Enigmata.
While this isn’t an ordinary or typical presentation… Quite frankly together with sightings of a History Fictionologist, the followers of Mythus, operating and a concerningly spotty recount of real life events, when you line up the pieces, anything can happen for the sake of obfuscation. "A case of induced amnesia?" Veritas makes a face at the assessment despite being the one to make it. "I’m not a fan of making such a hasty diagnosis. So I highly recommend to seek me out at a later time and allow me to conduct a neurological exam."
"Do take care of yourself in the meantime." His hand settles on the guardrail as he leads them down to R2 for whatever cleaning utilities available Sunday saw fit to use there, face curling up into an expression of mild disgust at feeling the coarse and gritty texture of the rusty metal. He gives it a little jostle to confirm that despite its wear and age, it should be stable enough for people to trek up and down its steps. "First and foremost, watch your step. The humidity and teeming plantlife in this particular area can be hazardous." The last thing Veritas wants to deal with is a repeat of his first arrival here, but hopefully with the way he’s memorized from exploring around, he should be able to avoid all that.
On the way down, Veritas continues their conversation about what they last remember about Penacony. "I have no recollection of how I got here nor what happened after hearing your sister’s song, but everything before that is crystal clear." He glances over to gauge the halovian’s reactions to his next words with a sharp and observant eye. "Like for example, a long and dull dream. Of a life so perfect, it felt dreadful and bore me to tears."
no subject
Perhaps knowing what was wrong, or where, could help. Though with the state of the Ship, Sunday was deeply unsure what sort of diagnostic equipment they might even have. This was why Ratio had multiple doctorates, and he didn't.
"Thank you, Doctor. I'll keep that in mind."
Sunday is torn between worrying about slipping, and touching the rusty guardrail. Ratio actually gets some distance away from him as Sunday stands there, hand outstretched, contemplating. He doesn't wish to be rude, or force a man who very clearly does not seem to be pleased with him to deal with him longer than absolutely necessary, and they were on the way to the cleaning supplies.
Sunday just couldn't shake the idea of becoming sick from it. From touching the filthy rail and then possibly touching his skin, or his mouth. It consumes him until the anxiety of Ratio being too far away and simply leaving him becomes a reality, and his fear of being well and truly alone once more is much worse than any illness he could contract while a doctor was on board. Sunday reaches for it, making his way down the stairs and catching up with Ratio, mindful of where he was stepping. Ignoring the disgust and anxiety crawling up his back.
Ratio looks at him, as he describes the last thing he remembers in any clarity. A pit burrows its way into Sunday's gut. The Charmony Festival. Robin's song, not his? His breath catches in his throat and he feels a little sick, initially. Why would he feel that way? Wasn't it their dream? Hadn't it finally come true, for even a moment?
It had been his. Not hers. Sunday had never meant for her to sing."You say you... Woke up to her song? After that dream?" Sunday needed to know. His expression is fearful, desperate. "You heard her, just her? She was okay?"
no subject
Veritas treks down the steps, and he realizes after gaining some distance that Sunday has not immediately followed him down. He didn’t turn back. It was his choice to follow or not, but he only turns back when he hears hurried steps and furrows his brows. He sighs. If he was uncomfortable with the notion, then he should have spoken up. Veritas wouldn’t bite his head for it. Much.
"On second thought, Mister Sunday, the next part of these stairs look particularly hazardous. I would advise you to take my hand the rest of the way down." He holds out his other hand, not holding on to the guard rail. "If not my hand, then by all means, I am free to lend a shoulder, a sleeve, whatever suits your fancy."
During his suggestion, he hears Sunday’s fear bleed into his voice before he sees it and turns back to address him once more. It’s strange. In the way that rattles at his brain, ringing all sorts of bells but with no alarms to sound them off. The fear an older brother holds for his younger sister is only natural. Sunday has been nothing but demonstrative of it since he mentioned sharing what they know of Penacony. Yet… is it normal to have such a strong feeling of guilt attached to it?
"Is there something wrong with that? From what I remember, Miss Robin was set to sing at the Charmony Festival. In spite of her throat’s poor condition."
He can still hear that lullaby in his ear; he can still feel his heartstrings tugging at the vivid memory and the lyrics.
He unerringly responds. "After waking from that dream, Miss Robin’s voice singing was unmistakable. She was singing Harmony’s resonance as an antiresonance, a destructive interference to… what I believe was a choir, reciting praises. And I highly doubt that was the work of the Harmonic Strings." He looks for any sign of confusion or any form of recognition on Sunday’s face as he continues to drip feed what he remembers about Penacony to the now visibly frantic looking halovian in front of him. He is sure he heard both the Beyond the Sky Choir’s melodies alongside Harmony’s hymns through Robin’s soulful song. Whether or not Sunday knows... Well, that's what he's trying to find out really, by exhaustively leaving no corners of their muddled minds unturned.
no subject
"I thank you for being so gracious. I do not wish to make myself more of a burden to you, given the circumstances, dear Doctor."
Was there something wrong with that?
Many things, too many to count. Sunday had no trouble remembering the true intentions of the Charmony Festival: It's conclusion was a concept that had been drilled into him for many years. It must go ahead at all costs. It must be perfect. He only had one shot. It was a Festival that occurred every thousand years, and there was too much at stake to simply delay, or allow room for failure. It was the very reason he and his sister had been adopted. One of them, as children of Order, would have to sing. And as such, had no trouble understanding that it had been his own intention, from the very start, to ensure it was not Robin upon that stage.
"That she was." For she sung far more easily through Harmony. For her name was known across the cosmos. For she was a bird on a tether, and he was one without flight. "And if she had sung, it would be a fate too cruel for her. I'm sure you are... intimately aware, there was more to the Festival than it appeared. My memories of the event itself may be unclear, but I know what was intended to happen at every moment."
Perhaps he shouldn't be sharing the Family's secrets here. Perhaps it no longer mattered. He sighs, softly. Looking at Ratio for moment, and then averting his gaze. He knows what Veritas had heard. He knows it well. Melodies, a discordant song intertwined within the voices of Xipe.
"If you could hear her after the dream.... If there was an after.... I know that she's okay." His voice is quiet, soft. "I know that I haven't failed her."
no subject
Veritas frown deepens, and his hand squeezes Sunday's a tad harder than he intended to before he deliberates on his next words. He can't help the ire rising up his chest. I know what was intended to happen at every moment is nothing but an admission to the events that happened on Penacony is it not?
"Oh, did you now?" The words come out harsh from the derision in his tone. "I was prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt, but I see that I have completed a futile exercise in insulting your intelligence when I should have questioned your sanity."
He sighs hearing the halovian's heartfelt worry for his sister bleed out of him. What should he call the man behind him he's once more guiding through a quagmire of unrest and uncertainty? Flawed? Short sighted? Delusional? And will Veritas this time help him with the intention of pulling the wool over his eyes like in Penacony? … He's never liked plans that hinge on taking advantage of someone’s willful ignorance without teaching them a lesson.
"Inviting Ena's Order?" He assumes it was done using the Stelleron Sunday oh so enticingly dangled in front of him as a bribe to sell out Aventurine. "Do you know what happens to civilizations brought up under Ena's influence?"
no subject
"I did, in that every step I took was meticulously practised and planned. I know it all seems very foolish to you. I can't expect you to understand how important it was to me, to all of us. It was an event I had spent a lifetime preparing for, dear Doctor."
A lifetime of thinking, of learning, at the beck and call of one called father, master. Both his duty and his cage. As long as Robin was not within it, Sunday had no problems taking the mantle, taking responsibility, taking the fall.
Veritas asks him if he knows what happens to civilizations nurtured by Ena. Sunday closes his eyes, simply trusting the other man not to illogically lead him into a wall. The halovian tries to piece together the old memories, but the details escape him, blending into the rest.
He focuses on what he does know.
"My teachings always seemed to... focus moreso on creating that world. Something perfect, and beautiful, without fear or pain. That it was the solution for everyone. I am sure I was told at one point, that surely it was in conjunction with needing to do this perfectly, without failure. We-- I. Had one shot."
Instead, a quiet admission. He opens his eyes, looking over at Veritas. He can tell the other man is not pleased with him. It's a reality he easily accepts-- he expected very few people to simply hear him out, to try to understand.
"I feel that I should know. Would you refresh my memory?"