TEST DRIVE MEME #1

[abraxasmods]

TEST DRIVE MEME

Welcome to the very first test drive meme for Abraxas! This meme is run a little bit differently than most in that you'll be asked to choose one of the two different arrival scenarios below for your character to take. If you have any questions about this mechanic or anything else related to the TDM, please take a look at the questions below or ask one of your own here. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.

Arrival

You awaken suspended in the abyss, silent darkness stretching out in all directions. If you try to yell, you'll find that the sound doesn't carry. If you try to move, you'll find it's impossible to tell whether or not you're actually getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying last time you remember being awake, your hand will only touch bare skin.

You're naked and floating helplessly through the void, and what little air you have in your lungs is running out.

There's a pinprick of light that almost looks like a faraway star but as it grows it becomes clear that it's actually quite close. Through the opening you can see a bright room, but it's hard to make out any individual objects, as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.

A hand plunges through and you realize water is just what it is. Whether you take hold of the hand or not it will grab you and yank you up through the surface, lifting you out until you're sprawled on solid ground. Once you catch your breath, you can get a better look at the surroundings: tall trees and even taller stone pillars surround the platform you're laying on. Behind you is an ornate fountain, the base of which is so deep and so dark you might be compelled to scramble away from it lest it suck you back in to that endless abyss. Ahead of you are the walls of a large castle with several tall towers reaching up towards the sky.

If you had any powers, they feel unusually weak. Attempts to use magic or enhanced strength or powers of any sort fizzle out without any effect, but they don't feel completely gone, either.

Set into an indent on a marble slab behind the fountain is a card baring the image of one of the arcana.

An apprentice mage - the one whose hand lifted you out of the fountain - brushes the water off on their robes and runs back to join a group of three others, who all stare intently at a mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. He peers up at you for a moment and starts flipping through the book.

"I beg your pardon," he says, so absorbed in the pages of the book that he doesn't bother to look up, "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. One of my apprentices will explain everything in a moment, but please refrain from yelling and thrashing about until then. You're quite alright, and screaming gives me a hell of a headache."

Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the heavy tome, until he stops on one specific page, stares at it for a moment, and then exclaims:

"Aha!"

Scenario One: Welcome to Thorne

Ambrose's expression brightens, eyes twinkling with delight. He waves one of the apprentices over with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals and with a wave of his hand they reshape to fit you perfectly.

"Success! It's a success!" he exclaims, slamming the book shut and scurrying towards you.

Now that he's not hunching over the book, he doesn't seem quite so stuffy and inapproachable. The apprentices all seem quite relieved at his jovial outburst, and the one that handed you the tunic stops to take the tarot card down from the marble slab. If you show any curiosity about the card, they'll let you take a longer look, but won't let you touch it.

"Please, come with me, you're an honored guest here," he says, motioning for you to follow him towards the castle, "As promised, my pupils will explain your current situation. And, ah - if you had any magic of your own, or other special abilities you can't access right now, fear not, they'll return within the week. The summoning takes a lot out of you."

One of the apprentices steps forward and rattles on and on about the castle, Thorne itself, the names of a bunch of royals and nobles, and of course, your reason for being here. The Kingdom and the world itself is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes. If asked about these exploits, the apprentice will simply smile and shrug. The High Mage was happy to see you and that's good enough.

Once inside the castle you're taken to the North Wing, which has been set up as living quarters for you and your fellow newcomers. There are four people to a room, but each generously-sized bed has opaque curtains that can be drawn around it. You can meet your roommates here and discuss your shared situation (everyone appears to have arrived within the last few days), or you can wander around and meet the others.

There's also a dining hall stocked with all sorts of fancy food to meet every possible dietary need, and a library filled with epic tales and legends and the history of Thorne. Given that this is the Thorne library, it may be a biased account that makes the Kingdom look a fair bit better than the rest of the world sees them. Last but not least, there's a study hall where a few junior mages (younger and less experienced than the apprentices from earlier) might be willing to teach you some simple elemental magic. Think holding a small flame in the palm of your hand, or blowing a door shut with a gust of wind.

You may also notice that your sign is embroidered on your tunic: the same image you saw on the card from before with the name of the sign itself beneath it. If you ask the castle residents, they'll tell you a little bit about your sign (and will mostly stick to the positives, although some might point out the negatives).

Last (and, if you ask anyone else in the castle, least) there is a worn stone staircase leading underground to the dungeon. You can go there, if you wish, but all powers are restricted in the dungeons and spending too much time with the prisoners will lead to some suspicion being cast upon you. If you ask anyone why the prisoners are being held there, you'll be told that they pose a great threat to the Kingdom (and, by extension, the entire world).

Scenario Two: Imprisoned

The High Mage scowls, grinding his teeth as he slams the book shut. "Another failure!" he barks at the apprentices, "You lot wouldn't know your ass from a hole in the ground, would you?"

All four of them lower their heads, and two of them mumble an apology that Ambrose either doesn't hear or refuses to acknowledge. "Well, don't just stand there," he says, waving a hand in the air, "We've put all this effort into getting this wretched creature, we may as well put it to good use."

One of the apprentices drops a baggy, rough-feeling tunic, a pair of pants, and some worn sandals in your lap and glares down at you until you put them on (if you refuse, they'll tell you they can kick you back down that well if you don't want to cooperate). They're glaring at the High Mage as much as they're glaring at you (when they're sure he isn't looking, anyway). You might catch one of them long enough to ask them why they're so upset with you, but all they'll say is that the High Mage knows something they don't, and he's awfully upset about it.

Once you're fully clothed, another apprentice clamps some heavy iron shackles around your wrists and leads you on. The High Mage is far ahead of you already, muttering some long string of Thornean curses before he stands up straight and pauses, spinning to face you.

"One more thing," he says, holding one hand in the air and chanting something under his breath, "Can't have you getting too troublesome."

If you had powers, the slight connection you still had to them slips away completely and you're left with nothing as the four apprentices drag you towards the castle. They may answer a few of your questions (with some insults and curses peppered in), but they won't tell you anything important.

Once you arrive at the castle you're brought to the dungeons and thrown into a locked cell. There are four people to a cell, and two sets of bunk beds with a thin and lumpy straw mattress. If you're over six feet tall, these beds are going to be awfully uncomfortable. You might as well meet your roommates. Once per day you're dragged out to an enclosed courtyard for one hour of recreation (with some crude weights, benches, and balls lying around but not much else), where you can meet the rest of the prisoners, but you can also talk to your immediate neighbors in the cells on either side and across the hallway. Just don't yell too much or the guards will snap at you to be quiet.

Everyone in the dungeon is fed one meal a day, and for a prison meal it's decent: a bit of meat, a bun, and a salad. It would seem that the Thornean chefs take too much pride in their craft to send bad food to the dungeons. The meals are all served in equal portions, though, so the smaller prisoners may be overfed and the larger ones may be getting hungry. Feel free to fight for food or share with your cellmates.

Crudely embroidered on the back of every prison tunic is the same image that was on your card and the name of the sign beneath it. A guard may explain a bit about the sign, and tell you some negative stereotypes they hold about yours.

You may be blessed with a visit from one of the more welcomed newcomers, and they may sneak you some extra food or a small book to read or they may share some of the information they've gathered. However, rumors travel fast and some people believe the honored guests in the castle above are somehow responsible for the lot of the prisoners below. And although you may hope for kindness, there's nothing stopping them from being cruel to you if they wish. The guards will certainly turn a blind eye if one of them wishes to take out their frustrations on you.

---

Questions

How do I choose a scenario for my character?
Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Whether your character is honored or imprisoned has nothing to do with their personal morality, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into either situation.

Can I try out both scenarios?
You can! But please keep in mind that only the one you eventually choose can be game canon, if you decide to keep any of your TDM threads.

What happens if my character refuses to comply with Ambrose?
Prisoners will be dragged against their will. Honored guests will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and Ambrose and the apprentice mages will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, Ambrose will warn them once that he's willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight he will make good on that promise.

My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the castle, murdering the castle staff, etc.), what would happen to them?
Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other staff would be thrown back in the well (which will mean drowning in the void, not returning home). Brawling with other PCs and causing minor damage is fine and will be greeted with a cranky attitude (if they are an honored guest) or a punishment like denial of food or temporary solitary confinement (if they are a prisoner), and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now the Thorneans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.

Ambrose will take it especially personally, as this experiment was his idea and too much trouble would risk the summoning spell being scrapped and potentially result in him being demoted. Rest assured it does not take much for him to throw someone back in the well at this point in time.

Is the power loss for the prisoners permanent?
No, although honored guests will regain their powers first due to the lack of interference from Ambrose, the prisoners will be able to regain theirs soon enough as well.

Can the prisoners talk about anything private, or will they be overheard at all times?
There are guards patrolling the dungeon, but they aren't always within earshot. Most of the attention is being focused on the new guests, so the prisoners will have some opportunities for privacy.

Can my character leave the castle?
For now they will be prevented from leaving the castle, even if they are an honored guest. A bit of a gilded cage, isn't it? They'll also find that any powers they regain cease to work outside of the castle walls (this is also a temporary effect) so flying outside is not an option.

Can my character eventually side against Thorne if I choose to make them an honored guest/can they side with Thorne if I choose to imprison them?
Yes, characters in Scenario 1 will be able to betray Thorne, and characters in Scenario 2 can work themselves into Thorne's good graces.

How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?
This choice will have a major impact on gameplay throughout the first few months of the game, and potentially a bit beyond that depending on where our players guide the plot. This decision - and every other major decision you make in game! - will also be used to flavor some mod surprises that will be coming down the line.

Don't get too anxious about this choice, though; this is just one choice you'll get to make in a game that has a lot of them, and every character in both scenarios can work their way towards many, many individual goals and outcomes. You're not locking yourself out of anything in the future via the choice you made on the TDM. It will primarily impact the immediate future with the far-reaching effects being up to each player.

Are TDM threads mandatory for my application?
No, you may use other samples, but we encourage you to post to the TDM and get a feel for this game and its mechanics before you join. If you do not have a TDM thread you will still need to choose one of the two scenarios on your application.

What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?
You can ignore sign-related prompts if you're undecided (or try out different signs in different threads).

Can a put a character on the TDM if their canon is less than 30 days old?
Yes. For this app round, anything that's at least 30 days old when the game opens on June 12th can be applied from.

Do the apprentice mages have names?
Their names are Jeffrey, Grigory, Noelle, and Jolene.

---

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Comments

Alucard | Castlevania | The Hierophant | Imprisoned

[cryptsleeper]

Dungeons, 1
[There are in fact many awful parts of this situation. Being dragged somewhere else entirely. Having some stranger hunched over a book take a single look at the state of Alucard and calling him a wretched creature. (Not wrong, but it still stings.) And then, defiant and furious and knowing full well that this situation would endanger his life further, the dhampir had snapped furiously at the first hand laid upon him.

The next part was a blur. Alucard had always been good at a fight, and the situation was no different until somehow, in some impossible moment after a spell he couldn't dodge, there were shackles around his wrist. Again.

These weren't made of silver, they didn't bind his entire body, but the sheer horror of the situation meant he did nothing to defend himself in the minutes that followed. One punch after the other. Kicks to the chest. And then--

--then his skin refused to heal itself. In that awful moment, Alucard understood how dire the stakes were.

Since being thrown into the cell, he has been quiet. His torso smarts from bruises starting to blossom, no part of him is capable of movement. There's only the weird pale man on the pitiful straw bed, making a point to mush himself in the corner to force himself upright and to see everything he can.

No one gets to sneak up on him yet again.]

Dungeons, 2
--Hm.

[If there is one surprise to be had here, in this particular situation, it is the food. Minimal, yes, given that it comes once a day, but there's always effort put into it. The meat isn't covered in fat to hide a rotten hunk of critter - the meat is well cooked. Seasoned, with salt, pepper, and herbs. The salad isn't just a few ripped up leaves with nothing on it, there's effort to make it presentable. Palatable even. The bun has yet to be stale.

It is the weirdest detail in all of it, and every time Alucard finishes the meal, he stares at the tray, trying to determine if this is some awful sort of long game.

Today is no different. Food devoured, he pushes the tray aside and leans against the cell wall.]

Nonsensical.

[He breathes the word out at a bare whisper.]

Recreation no parks
Whose...?

[Alucard uses his foot to stop a runaway ball that threatens to careen past the little corner he's staked out for himself in order to enjoy the precious our of daylight afforded to everyone housed in the dungeons. He's far enough away from guards to avoid suspicion as well as far enough away from other prisoners that in theory, he should just have this little hour of alone time.

He frowns, picking up the ball and then looking for whoever was using it.]

[ooc: Alucard is from the conclusion of s3, although I am caught up with s4]

Dungeons 2

[therichremember]

That they're feeding us meat? I've come to theorize that they're conjuring the meals. It'd explain why we're all given the same portions, and perhaps how they can afford to spare meat for prisoners.

[The man who speaks is bespectacled and broad, his tunic bearing the sign of the High Priestess.]

The reason, I'm still trying to figure, though.

[cryptsleeper]

--Yes.

[Alucard has been incredibly quiet since arriving, focused on precious little movement so his injuries can heal. (At a human's pace. He always appreciated what gifts he inherited from his father, but none more than healing since this ordeal began.) His voice remains soft, a bare whisper, refusing to attract unwanted attention.]

To the meat. I've yet to encounter magic that can produce food from nothing. A decent cook can ensure equal portioning.

[He doesn't quite try to move from his spot in the corner, but at least he's speaking. That's a change in pace enough.]

[therichremember]

I'd never encountered magic that could conjure people from different worlds before. As for the portions, I can't think of a reason why the chefs would pay so much attention to everyone getting the exact same amount--especially when we range in age and size. Prisons where I'm from, the prisoners are lucky to get rotten veg and offal, and it's not apportioned carefully at all.

[Jean, meanwhile, has been fairly active--talking to the other prisoners and the visitors from above, prowling the cell. He's left Alucard alone until now, for whatever reason.]

[cryptsleeper]

[There's a dryness in the response, arid as a desert's air and about as withering.]

Yes, it makes perfect sense to care and be exacting about this sort of thing and show that level of effort and detail rather than be uniform in portions and presentation.

[Someone has given the matter far too much thought. Too much verbose thought, now that the dhampir considers the matter, and he suddenly finds himself regretting making the comment at all.]

Dungeons, 1

[sunshinehan]

[Majima knew what that felt like. He, too, was covered in recent bruises and cuts from the guards. Except he had been here for a few days and they were still coming. What was it about his face that screamed 'throw me in a dungeon and torture me'? If he could remove that part of his face he would do it in a heartbeat. He was already missing an eye, what was one more piece of him.

He didn't move from his spot on the ground in the far corner of the cell as the guards dumped the new prisoner in the cell. Just watched with his one good eye--the other closed behind its thankfully intact lid, currently missing the usual eye patch he rocked--and kept quiet, small (which was a feat for a man as lanky and tall as the Lord of the Night). His eye followed the guards' movements out of the sight and then flicked back to the new prisoner.

Majima was curious but he also saw an individual for what they were, and in this case he saw someone wary and on edge. Not that Majima would blame the other considering. He could easily guess what had happened from the look of things.]

Not that it's comforting or anything, but you get used to it.

[He spoke with the softer side of his voice, both to keep quiet enough to stay out of mind of the guards and also to convey a less threatening presence. Like talking to a stray cat.]

[cryptsleeper]

[There's no particular fortune that the punches Alucard took to his face have yet to result in eyes being swollen shut.  He just had enough speed left in him to dodge the attempt, and he had then hit the ground in such a way that made the eyes hard to get to.  No fortune.  It simply is.

Two gold eyes whose emotions are probably best cataloged as angry followed by terrified then feral fix on the person speaking.   He processes what is said, simple and straight forward enough, and there's a new, low noise of disapproval and fury.]

How frequent?

[The only thing that matters, at this point.]

[sunshinehan]

Ah. Once a day I suppose.

[A few times that first day, once or twice that second, slowed down to once a day then on. Majima acted like he didn't pay enough attention to detail to know or care, but that was a simple front. He was calculating enough to not only know but categorize the guards into those that deserved punishment versus those that simply had no honor or backbone to disagree with the others.]

'Course, not everyone gets the same treatment.

[cryptsleeper]

[Once a day.

A small part of Alucard's mind registers that once a day is not as bad as it could be by any stretch of the imagination. Once a day lets small things heal. But it also means the build up of longer lasting injuries, and that? That's a problem.

The next question's tone is the same as the first.]

Factors--?

[Are there specific targets, or is the violence truly random?]

[sunshinehan]

Hmm.

[Majima closed his eye as he thought about the answer to that question.]

Anything that grabs their attention can sway their mood. Seen 'em beat people for bein' too loud or asking too many questions or just for lookin' at a guard for too long.

Dungeons 1

[goldneedles]

[ Stairs are the most difficult part of walking everywhere. Floating up and down them, one never notices how much higher or lower each one is than the last and the ones down to the dungeons are hard and uneven.

As is the floor of the dungeons. And it's dark. And-

-she's here to gather information on the threat that the people here pose to the kingdom, not to speculate on how to make the place more hospitable. But she should also do that. Once she knows more. One task at a time. The nice guard escorting her will get impatient if she dallies.

She just has to figure out where to start. There are more people here than she expected, and she only has the one wax tablet to write on, and- ]

Oh!

[ It's hard to see properly, but- pale, with delicate, almost otherworldly features and long hair. It's unlikely. But he does know someone who looks like that, and they do have an unfortunate habit of endangering kingdoms. She stops, pointing at the weird pale man and calling out to her escort. Her tunic marks her out as an honoured guest, which is probably why this guy is willing to tolerate the idea of giving this very small child a dungeon tour.]

This one, please! May I go into this cell?

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard's barely spoken the past...whatever. He could try and keep time by meals or recreation hours, but it doesn't seem to matter at the moment. Time will pass, and all will hang still in the air. The only goal he has is to find the best way to free himself of the bindings around his wrists, wait for his natural abilities to return, and ensure that this does not happen again.

It may force people to spell his name differently. At this point, Alucard isn't sure he cares. Any place using magic in this way only to discard people deserves that kind of a reaction.

So when someone says this one like they're picking out a pup from a litter, the only thing that the dhampir can do is glare with barely restrained fury in his eyes. The look is only enhanced by blossomed bruises, currently in terrible shades of blue and purple on his face and what can be seen of his arms.

Fuck off, says the Hierophant. Or else.

He's not sure if a child can read the implication in his eyes. The guard likely can.]

[goldneedles]

[ Oh. Golden eyes. Not Cecil's blue. It's hard to tell by torchlight, but his hair might be a shade warmer than his, too. So in that way, at least, the glare informs her that she has the wrong person. Still, it's too late. She's picked out the first person she wants to speak with. Even if the guard hasn't make any effort at all to let her into the cell. ]

Sir? Please let me into the cell. I want to talk to this man.

[ She says it with the tone of someone who is very used to it working when one behaves oneself properly and asks for things nicely. A perception of reality that likely hasn't been improved at all by being treated as a guest of honour. The guard takes another look at Alucard and shakes his head. Yeah, no. He's not about to let a child into a cell with that. No matter how difficult she makes it to say no to her. He crouches down to her level to explain it. In baby-talk.

He's done very bad things. That's why we have to put people here. He might hurt you if you go in there with him. You remember your friend Mr. Ambrose, don't you? Don't you think he'd be sad if you got hurt?

And she does consider it. Because she's wholly unintimidated, but making Mr. Ambrose sad would be a shame. ]

Oh, that's okay then. I'll just talk to him from here. Thank you for thinking of my wellbeing!

[ ...this is not the response that the guard was hoping for. Why. Why is this happening to him. He's about to suggest anything, anything, else when she turns back to the cell and waves. ]

Hello, sir! Could you tell me what you're doing to put everyone in danger?

[cryptsleeper]

[He hears all of it. The confidence of a child that's grown up like he did - indulged, allowed to do what they want, told to be confident and all of that reinforced. That politeness and effort opened every door, but also ensured safety.

The glare nearly works. No one is allowed near him, but the guard can't redirect her entirely. The dhampir can't help but bristle at the explanation though. Everyone down here has done bad things. Fuck that. They were pulled here, then insulted, and clamped down upon. No nuance. No understanding. Only this.

Once addressed, Alucard doesn't even look in the direction of the voice. He shifts, raising his shoulders to block a clearer view of his face.]

Find someone else.

[goldneedles]

If I find someone else, they'll only be able to tell me what they're doing to put everyone in danger.

[ She sounds a little exasperated about that, as if it should be obvious. But- it's going to be difficult to really ask anything with her escort here. And if he isn't going to let her into the cells, she doesn't really need him for much at all. ]

Um! Can you give us some privacy, sir? I promise I'll be careful, and I wouldn't want to keep you from your work for too long. I remember the way back, so I'll be just fine!

[ The guard is unwilling to just leave her here, but he does have work to do and he doesn't have a good enough reason to make her leave. He turns back around a few more times as he goes, but he does go. She rocks back and forth on her heels, waiting for him to leave earshot. ]

You haven't done anything at all, have you?

Re-creation

[petcromancer]

[Over a year living among vampires has given Hector a new appreciation for the warmth of the sun. He's an honored guest here, so he's acquainted himself with quite a few sunny nooks and gardens in the last few days. This particular courtyard is new to him, and oddly closed up, but Hector manages to worm his way in. It's not the first time his curiosity has led him somewhere he shouldn't be, and it won't be his last.

Besides, he wants to know the secrets of this place, and all the juiciest secrets tend to live behind the doors people want to keep closed. So in he slips, and finds himself a single honored Magician among the wretched imprisoned.

He looks around, and one figure, tall and golden in the sunlight, is strangely familiar to him. Hector nudges a discarded ball towards him, and as he turns around, Hector sees his face. Sees the shadow of his father in the elegant facial structure and the otherworldly grace.

Hector's eyes widen, and he takes a step back. Ghosts have never frightened him, but this specter of the past gives him cause for alarm.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns, pretending the slow movement is deliberate rather than a result of still healing injuries. It is a skill he's managed to gain over the past few days, along with being able to present himself as hale and heartier than he is.

The man in question doesn't belong here. That much is upsettingly obvious. He's well kept, his clothing quite fine, and while there have been such esteemed visitors to the dungeons, not a single one of them has dared to sneak this far in.

So let this one decide how far the dare wants to go. The dhampir makes no attempt to bend over and pick the ball up, nor kick it in the man's direction. He'll use what little power he has right now to force him to make a decision. The dhampir would be just as happy left alone.]

[petcromancer]

[It has to be him. Hector knows that 'just leave me the fuck alone, I'm too tragic to be bothered and too dramatic to be ignored' stare. This is Vlad Dracula Jr.

But how? And why? Why is he held captive while Hector is free?

Hector should slink away and make his inquiries elsewhere. But there's a world between what Hector should do and what Hector does.

He approaches.]

I won't be able to stay here long. They dislike us talking to prisoners. How did you come to be here?

[cryptsleeper]

[Between curiosity and vampires vs the safe choice Hector has never made the correct decision ever once in his life

He can't walk away quickly enough. Hell, Alucard's movement is too limited these days, and whoever this man approaching him is, he cannot have that information. So instead Alucard must use what energy he has in projecting the right air. Fuck off to other prisoners, invisibility to the guards, lest he add to the number of injuries that heal at the stupid human rate he is now forced to deal with.

Alucard's expression does not change once Hector is in earshot. There is only a greater annoyance that someone's come closer.]

Ask yourself the reason for the dislike then, and seek the answer from elsewhere.

[I'm far too tragic for petty questions.]

[petcromancer]

[Hector's eyelids narrow in annoyance.]

I have ample opportunity for that at my leisure. Speaking to you is the only chance I might not have again.

[He steps forward, drawing closer so they can speak quietly, but not quite within arm's reach.]

Does your imprisonment have to do with your father's death? Giant castle, amassing magicians, not letting anyone leave. It reeks of a vampire pulling the strings.

dungeons, take 2

[gynvael]

[ The food, Geralt finds similarly curious. He's not picky about his meals in the first place—hardly a connoisseur, either—but the spices and seasonings tell him it isn't only that the ingredients themselves aren't scraped off the bottom of a pot. They were prepared with care, too.

Ironic, he gets a break from stale bread stuffed in his horse's saddlebag in a damn prison of all places.

In all honesty, could be worse. The man they stuck in the cell with him is quiet and about as interested in drawing attention as Geralt is. It gives him plenty of time to himself. Plenty of time to listen in on conversations, too, that he quietly files away for the time being. He's accepted he's just not going to know what the fuck is going on for the next little while.

He's sat against the wall when he hears his companion mutter under his breath. Geralt glances sidelong at him. ]

You'll have to be more specific.

[cryptsleeper]

[Between the two of them, Alucard's not sure either have said more than a few words at a time to each other. That has suited the dhampir just fine, it's permitted time to nurse his wounds without any guards coming along to mess up the slow, human progress of bruises blossoming and then fading. There's a few that are fascinating shades of purple-yellow, meaning that the worst of the first beating is nearly healed.

He shifts his head just a little, meeting the other man's eyes.]

Spices usually aren't for prisoners.

[gynvael]

[ No. Geralt hums his agreement. He's made attempts to figure out what their treatment means: the guards behave as expected, but that they're fed and fed decently suggests they're needed for something. Typically, that would be labour—but he's yet to see anyone be put to work. They're just taking up space down here.

It's possible, he thinks, that even the mages don't know what to do with them. Concerning, in its own way. He'd rather not have his fate unknown even to his captors.

Either way, Geralt keeps his thoughts to himself. He tugs free a strand of tangled hair caught in his mouth. ]

Well if we die, at least it'll be with fresh bread in hand.

[cryptsleeper]

Fresh bread and horrible body odor.

[It has not exactly eclipsed Alucard's notice that while spices are for prisoners, bathing isn't. His own hair has had too much of his own blood matted in it since he was thrown into the cell, and from the looks of it, Geralt's hasn't fair too much better. Of all the things to pick at, it is possibly the stupidest and pettiest, but that's where he has ended up.

It's hair jokes or contemplation that down here? Down here death would take. The thought is terrifying.]

[gynvael]

[ It's been a passing thought. Even in the woods, he can take a dip in the river. As much as he's used to blood and grime in his hair, it doesn't mean that's how he prefers to be.

Might be for the best, his sense of smell has been dulled by whatever they've done to him. Magic, no doubt. As seems to be the case for everything here. Damn mages.

Like his cellmate, Geralt's not interested in discussing their impending perils. It is what it is. Either he finds his opportunity out or he doesn't. What he does know is that regardless of what they intend to do to him, they have to open that door first. ]

Perhaps they'll spice us next to aid with that.