test drive

[thevisitors]

This is the official test drive for Visitants! Feel free to use this as to gather samples (8 comments from your char) or voicetest. Reserves open March 30th. Feel free to hit up our FAQ if you have any questions.

Please list your character's name (canon also recommended) in the header of your top-level prompt.

1 - Count Chocula
You find yourself awoken in a long-abandoned cabin, far too dusty for anyone's comfort and cobwebs practically coating the wall. Once you leave the cabin, you find yourself in a town in the middle of the woods that's...not looking much better. There are others here in similar situations, however, maybe you should look at them?

2 - Frankenberry
Day-to-day living in town is...simple enough. Try and escape and you'll just get lost in the woods until you find your way back. You're also a bit limited in terms of...comfort. There's not a lot here in the way of entertainment, but it seems as though you'll have enough to do in order to keep yourselves busy.

For you see, unlike other murdergames, the restaurant has been long-abandoned. While there are a limited amount of rations around the town should you scavenge, and a small supply in your room appears now and then to keep you from starving, you'll have to hunt should you want to keep hunger away. Fortunately, there are bows and arrows available...

For the less hunt-inclined members of the group, you can find something to do. Gather wood for campfires,  tend to the camp, and there's a limited amount of fertile ground available for crops. Surely you can find something to do to improve life here.

3 - Boo Berry
Congrats! Somebody did a murder. Maybe it was even you. Maybe it was one of your friends. Maybe the victim was your brother. Might want to look into that, maybe?

4 - Fruit Brute
...This place is haunted. You come to this conclusion based on the fact that either you got caught during a trial, and you wake up as a ghost, or your dead friend who was killed is now floating around like it's nothing. Might have to adjust to life as a ghost.

5 - Fruity Yummy Mummy
For all the spooky prompts you wanna do that we don't have.

Keep in mind that posting in the test drive does not represent a commitment to join our game. You're welcome to play here even if you can't app. Playing here does not guarantee a slot in the game, nor does it count as a reserve. 

Comments

Martin Septim || TES IV: Oblivion

[dragongod]

1

[Martin had been fully prepared to be kidnapped.

A grim outlook, perhaps, but though the stranger guarding him had more than proven themselves in Kvatch, he had no illusions about the persistence of assassins. To that end, waking up somewhere unfamiliar was hardly a surprise. More surprising was that he was unguarded and that the door was unlocked, though the unfamiliar woods surrounding him didn't hold enough promise to make him any less uneasy.

He's certain of very little, these days, but he knows enough to realize that escaping ought to be his highest priority. In no short amount of time, he finds himself a weapon, pulls up his hood, and begins creeping his way through the woods, slow and careful. There must be a way to a path somewhere.

At the sound of anyone approaching, he sidesteps from the tree he's hidden behind and calls out to them.]

Stop there.

[Though he tries to keep it hidden in his sleeve, it's likely fairly obvious from the awkward way he holds his arm that he has a dagger at the ready. He's better with that than with most weapons, but it's still clumsy in his grasp-- a fact that's quite clear to anyone more familiar with using weaponry. He keeps his distance, and though he's in the open his head is still partially ducked in an attempt to hide his face. His posture conveys more worry than he stern tone lets on.]

Who are you, and why have I been brought here?

2

[He very quickly finds himself at a loss of what to do; a feeling not uncommon for him as of late, it seems. He has never been a hunter of any sort, and the people here hardly need a priest (especially a priest like him). They need an Emperor even less, though that's no small relief to Martin, and he finds himself content to keep himself quiet even once he's slightly less on-edge. Others had stepped up to lead, in any case, and it's more important that he keeps himself safe. The Empire still depends on that.

He gravitates towards the fields, eventually, though they can't really be called that. Though he'd picked up little of the profession himself, his father (or the man he'd once thought was his father) had been a farmer. He knows enough to be of some help, and that's what matters at the moment.

Martin can be found on his hands and knees in the dirt shortly after reaching this conclusion, hands digging into what's available and turning it over in his fingers. After a while of this he sits back on his heels, surveying the (exceedingly limited) area of dirt around him with a displeased look and equally displeased muttering.]

This isn't enough space to feed a household, let alone a village.

wildcard

[rather do something else? go for it.]

1

[righto_sir]

Ah- sorry! Sorry, sir, didn't mean to bother, I'll be right along my way, then, sorry-

[Congratulations! Martin found a cat. And scared the living daylights out of him. He's cowering in front of Martin, fur bristling and eyes wide, and seems to be frozen, unable to will himself to run.

He's been awake here long enough to not be surprised that the people can understand him, but not long enough to calm down about this situation. For all Tibbs knows, Martin's the person who kidnapped them all in the first place, and brought them to this town. he was a little busy being terrified to notice the "why have i been brought here"]

[dragongod]

[It isn't as though talking cats are unheard of, even in Cyrodiil, but they're uncommon enough to warrant a second glance and a wary attempt at formulating an explanation. Martin's mind first jumps to Daedra, then to a very odd variety of Khajiit (and the two aren't necessarily mutually exclusive, either), but most importantly it doesn't seem to want to attack him. Not yet, anyways, though there's no accounting for how truthful that front may be.

Still. He's known enough farm cats in his life to know from its body language that it's startled, and that gives him an advantage at the moment. Enough of one to be slightly less wary, in any case, though just because he's a margin more relaxed doesn't mean he's any less commanding.]

You there. [As if there's anyone else around but the cat.] Did you have anything to do with this?

[righto_sir]

N-no sir, no sir! Not at all, sir! I-I don't know anything about this, sir, I promise you that, sir!

[Tibbs shrinks even further back, his tail bristling wildly. He's watching every twitch Martin makes, terrified.

He doesn't even fully register that if Martin is asking him if he's responsible, then Martin certainly can't be the kidnapper. He's still very scary to this tiny cat and that's what matters.]

[dragongod]

[Oh, for the love of-- this isn't getting him anywhere.]

Very well. [It's more of a mutter to himself, than anything, but he raises his voice back up after that.] Look.

[He slides the dagger out from his sleeve and very slowly bends down, setting it near his foot before straightening back up, arms raised slightly. Is it careless? Well, probably, and Jauffre would no doubt be displeased, but Jauffre isn't here. Martin can scold himself for the foolishness of not prioritizing his safety later, he's sure.

Besides, he feels slightly ridiculous interrogating a cat. Even a talking cat.]

If you truly know nothing than it would appear we're both on equal footing. Do you at least know how you came to be here?

[righto_sir]

[Tibbs hisses quietly once the dagger is brought out, trembling, but his hackles lower once he realizes Martin is merely placing on the ground. He listens to his next words with bemusement. Alright, so... this human's another victim of this mess. A very intimidating looking one.]

I'm- I'm afraid I don't know, sir. Woke up here, same as everyone I've talked to. Nothin' like London, I'm afraid. I don't know these woods. ... Don't trust these woods.

[dragongod]

[He just hums quietly at that. They must have been poisoned, all of them, if they were grabbed in their sleep so easily. One name does catch his attention, though, and he quickly scours his memory for mention of it.]

London... I'm afraid I'm not familiar with such a place. A settlement in Elsweyr?

[Because. Kahjiit. Obviously. Still, though, strange that they came from two entirely different places. Martin was travelling from Chorrol, and while the woods do look at least somewhat similar to those on the outskirts of the city, if this cat is from another province (or region) entirely it raises some questions.]

[righto_sir]

Elsweyr? Afraid I'm not familiar with that place, sir. London's in Great Britain, in Europe.

[Tibbs isn't as surprised as one might think that this man's never heard of London. Most animals can only travel so far in their lifetime, and their worldview winds up quite skewed as a result. Tibbs had never had the chance to travel out of Great Britain. The Colonel told him quite a few stories over the years about dogs and cats he had known, whose owners had moved to another country or continent and taken their pet along with them. Far off, unknown lands like India, Germany, the United States...

And who knows how many more places the Colonel had never even heard of!]

[dragongod]

I... can't say I recognize either the province or region. And I assure you, I've studied a great deal of maps.

[Granted, mostly maps of Tamriel, but he knows the general basics of most other locations. Or at least he likes to think so. Try as he might, the names don't ring any bells. It's... worrying, and a bit suspicious. How can he be certain any of this is truly happening when reality seems so distorted that he can't even recognize the names of places he should know about? But he shouldn't jump ahead to thinking of that so quickly.]

But surely you know of Tamriel. [And then he goes even broader just to cover his bases.] Of Nirn. Mundus.

1

[simplehunter]

I was starting to get worried that I might be the only other human in this town! Thank goodness I was wrong about that!

[The stranger stops in his tracks as requested and puts his hands up to show that he means no harm.

He's also definitely covered in a lot of blood. And that's not his own blood.]

My name is Alfred. Unfortunately I have no answers in regards to why we're here, but I do know that it's useless to try and escape. You'll just end up back in town again.

[dragongod]

[That gets a strange look, for the moment. Human must be a regional dialect, some variation of Man, though he's never heard it used before (or even read of it in any books). An odd quirk, but everything about the situation is odd, and other than that the man's words seem friendly enough. Martin doesn't make a move to raise his own arms yet, though.]

Alfred. I am...

[He hesitates for a second, unsure of how dangerous it is to give out his real name-- but he was given no warnings not to do so. He settles with the name he's gone by most recently, even if it's no longer very true.]

...Brother Martin.

[That's a lot of blood, but there's far too many explanations for that to make it immediately more suspicious. For the moment, at least, Martin has no real reason to distrust him-- though that doesn't mean he won't make him prove it, first, and so it's straight to business.]

You were captured as well, then? [He eyes him up and down before his gaze turns to the woods around them. Eventually he looks back at the blood coating the other man.] And I suppose I am to assume your... injuries are the mark of a failed escape attempt.

[simplehunter]

Indeed I was! I woke up not too long ago and assumed I'd been taken by the snatchers, but that doesn't seem to be the case. It's quite suspicious that there is no one else here...

[And... oh... yeah. The blood on his clothes. He'd completely forgotten about that, but he's not about to tell this stranger that it's from the woman he murdered in a quest to avenge the former leader of the executioners before coming here. Though, said woman was a disgusting monster, and it's totally perfectly fine to kill those.

Alfred clears his throat.]

Aah-- Injuries. Yes...

I was attacked by a wolf! Yes, that's it. A wolf. Came at me earlier while I was down at the creek. Horrible, horrible injuries.

[Even though he's like. Clearly perfectly okay.]

[dragongod]

I only just awoke as well, in an unguarded and unlocked cabin not far from here. Suspicious indeed.

[He doesn't have any idea what a 'snatcher' is supposed to be. He's not going to pry, though-- probably another regional dialect, and besides that it's not like he'd be willing to tell Alfred that he thought he'd been captured by assassins. It would raise too many questions, and he already has enough of those to consider.

More so now that the man's being so suspicious. Martin very much doubts the blood is his own, or even that of a wolf, but he patiently doesn't reveal as much. His tone, however, is probably sharp enough to convey his doubt, regardless of how sincere the words seem.]

I have some experience tending to wounds-- perhaps I should look at them before we move on. Wolf attacks are fairly common in Cyrodiil, it shouldn't take much time, but the wounds can be deadly if they aren't treated properly.

[simplehunter]

No offense, but I trust blood healing more than whatever you have to offer. I'd rather you not tend to my wounds.

[Chugging bottles of blood to heal and deal with your injuries is so fucking valid!]

Also, forgive me for asking but where and what is.... Cyrodiil? I've never heard of such a place.

[LET'S CONVENIENTLY CHANGE THE TOPIC, HUH? (:]

[dragongod]

[Mmmmm don't trust like that.]

Blood healing? Most of your blood seems to be outside of your body, from the look of it. But if you're so certain you can take care of it on your own, I will defer to your judgement.

[He just doesn't want to argue with a stubborn fool right now. He's done enough of that in the last few days, and this guy is just all sorts of suspicious. Normally he would have easily caught on to the attempt to change the topic so suddenly, but the question Alfred poses really does catch him off-guard.]

Never heard of-- [Hm.] Cyrodiil, the Imperial Province. It is my homeland, and the center of Tamriel.

[He's just throwing out a bunch of keywords here. Surely the guy must have seen it on a map, at the very least, or heard some sort of nickname for the province. He can't be that far removed from society, though it's seeming more and more like that is, in fact, the case. Maybe he's... a Nord? Nords are like that sometimes. Martin decides to try that, and one more for good measure.]

South of Skyrim, West of Morrowind.

[simplehunter]

[(:]

Can't say I recognize any of those names at all.

[Literally none of these places ring a bell. Alfred isn't stupid. Well, actually he is. He's a dumbass, but a ... somewhat valid one. Still, he knows the world outside of Yharnam and he's never heard of any of these places in his life. Maybe they're different names for places he actually does know? Because that's happened to him before for sure.]

Have you... ever heard of Yharnam? Plague town, kind of locked off from the world currently, has lots of werewolves and other absolutely disgusting creatures running around.

[dragongod]

...Strange.

[He manages to at least keep that one word composed enough, even though his mind is racing. Not recognizing Cyrodiil is odd, the same could be said for Skyrim and Morrowind, but not recognizing Tamriel... it takes a while to realize that Alfred is speaking again, and Martin struggles to catch the remainder of his words.]

Ah... Yharnam, you said? I'm sorry, it doesn't sound familiar.

[Though if it's only a town then it makes sense to him that he wouldn't recognize it. He knew his maps well enough, but only on a large scale, and if it was outside of Tamriel then of course he couldn't claim to know it.]

But... werewolves, and a plague. [He shakes his head. Maybe Nirn is just falling apart entirely.] I'm sorry. I wish we could provide you with aid, but...

[He stops there, after a second, weighing things over in his mind. Strategically it might not be the best idea to tell someone outside of Tamriel that Cyrodiil is being torn apart by Daedra, but-- it's only one individual. Granted, he isn't sure how powerful of an individual he is. In the end, Martin errs on the side of caution, keeping his words vague.]

...as you can imagine, Cyrodiil has problems of its own. It seems at times that there's no end to it all.

2

[ventulus]

No, but...maybe we could make do by working together?

[ Ventus has no idea, but he's determined to make the most of it somehow. Even if there's so little in the first place. ]

[dragongod]

[Martin hums in thought at the response, not looking up for a moment longer as he gazes at the small patch of land they have to work with. After a bit more thought, however, the sentiment does prompt a small smile out of him. He has done a poor job of remembering to keep spirits up, he thinks, and though they have little to work with it ought to be considered a blessing that they have anything at all. Besides, so long as those who can hunt keep doing so perhaps the sum total will be enough.]

Far better than working alone.

[He stands up fully, first brushing off the knees of his robe and then his hands, surveying the ground around his feet once more before glancing at Ventus.]

The land will require a lot of work if it is to bear crops. How familiar are you with farming?

[ventulus]

[ He smiles a bit at the admission from the other man. Though, at the question, Ventus gives a bit of a pause, looking sheepish. He was so eager to help, but at the same time he has such little experience in the art of farming, so to speak.

...Maybe it could still work out. ]

I've never grown anything before. Maybe you can show me how it works?

[dragongod]

Well, I can certainly try. Though I must admit, my knowledge isn't as extensive as it perhaps ought to be. One would think I might've picked up a bit more of my father's trade.

[Though he supposes farming isn't a skill that has been passed down through the Septim bloodline. At long last he has a viable justification for his lack of skill-- the only good thing to have come of the whole mess.]

We'll need to scour the rations for what usable seeds we can find-- that or search the woods. Either way I doubt we'll find much to work with, but it would be a start.

[ventulus]

He was a farmer then? Well, even if you don't have as much knowledge as he did, I bet I'm still in good hands.

[ He's surely never had to do any farming back at home. Honestly, Ventus is not even sure if he ever saw Terra or Aqua do any of that either. There was a bit of cooking going on, but he wouldn't be surprised if Master Eraqus had done any of that other stuff.

Still, he's going to nod at what Martin's other words. ]

...I think we can start with the rations first. So, let's go ahead and check that out.

Oh, and my name's Ventus, but you can call me Ven.

[dragongod]

Ah... yes. He was. [It's more of a complicated situation, now, but he supposes he still ought to view the man as his father to some degree.] And I do appreciate the vote of confidence. I'll do my best to live up to it.

[He isn't entirely sure where he can scavenge for rations that hasn't already been picked clean, but his gaze eventually settles on a building that seems relatively untouched and he starts off in that direction.]

Ventus, then. [Formality first and foremost.] I am Brother Martin. But I suppose just Martin will do, now.

[The page about him on the board had listed him as Martin Septim, in any case, but it's far easier for him to err on the side of caution in regards to that. Besides, the name feels too strange to claim as his own. Even just Martin is still strange to hear, after so long, but he supposes he'll have to drop the Brother title eventually. It means nothing here.

He glances over his shoulder briefly as they walk, a thought occurring to him.]

Should the others see us searching for seeds and assume we're tampering with the rations-- I trust you're familiar enough with diplomacy to keep us both from being stabbed.

[...He was never really good at anything but dark humor. It's more apparent here, and it masks some real sense of paranoia concerning the other townsfolk trapped here with them.]

[ventulus]

Good to meet you, Martin.

[ Ventus easily assumes Martin's joking, because he doesn't think that anyone would attack them if they cleared it up even simply. Though, if Vanitas had been among the townsfolk somehow, he might've made an exception on that thought. ]

Yeah, I am! But we might be in trouble since one of my other friends is much better at that than I am.

[ The blond's going to look sheepish but he does pass the older man a smile, and speaking of diplomacy and formalities, something else does occur to him, as his gaze becomes a bit hopeful as they walk. ]

Also... if I'm not going to be calling you "Brother Martin", can you call me just Ven?

[dragongod]

Then it will be twice the learning experience. Diplomacy and farming.

[Though by the time they've reached the building it doesn't look like they'll have any trouble, and after a while of rifling through cabinets and floorboards Martin's found at least a small amount of rations to comb through. At the request, he glances up with a slightly quirked eyebrow as he searches.]

Just Ven. I cannot promise I will remember, but I will try. [He pauses briefly in sorting through the next bunch of rations, a thought occurring to him suddenly.] Those I am familiar with in Cyrodiil, where I hail from-- we make use of titles far more than names. A hard habit to shake, I'm afraid.

[And one formed by associating with other servants of Akatosh and the Blades. But here he has no need to be a priest or an emperor-- perhaps he can afford to attempt to be more casual. He'd gone so quickly from one occupation to another after Kvatch that he hadn't stopped to consider dropping the formalities at all, and he wonders if his travelling partner was offended by the mindset. It's hard to say if he'll ever get the chance to go back home and ask him about something as trivial as that.]

In fact, my, ah... companion has gone by the title of Hero as long as I have known him. I suppose I never thought to ask what he might prefer to be called instead.