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ABRAXAS MODS ([personal profile] abraxasmods) wrote in [community profile] abraxasooc2021-05-20 09:20 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME #1

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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necrosaint: (019)

[personal profile] necrosaint 2021-06-01 01:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"Don't worry."

How could she not worry? Everything is a mess. Everything is wrong. Harrow was becoming a Lyctor and now instead she's--this. She is nothing. She is a prisoner in some other world, in some punishment for her failure to do something properly--for her failure to finish the work properly--

Something worked: Gideon is still here in front of her.

But her necromancy is gone, and all she wants to do is lie down and die over and over and over again. She is not a Lyctor; she is a failure. A disappointment, again.

"I did that, at least."
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14912119)

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2021-06-01 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Is she meant to feel relief upon hearing that? She doesn't. Because what does that mean, exactly? That her adept kicked Cytherea's ass from one crumbling corner of Canaan house to the next, but perished herself in doing so? It isn't exactly the outcome she'd been aiming for. That this place - the wretchedly ominous void she'd travelled through, the equally ominous fountain, whatever bizarre pantomime had taken place since the moment she'd been dragged from it - isn't some kind of weird purgatory hasn't even really occurred to her.

That Harrow had finished her statement with at least, that there's the delicate tracery of something like doubt laced through her words, isn't something Gideon has fully attended to. Or maybe just doesn't want to, given that it's so uncharacteristic as to be unsettling. Since when has Harrowhark Nonagesimus ever doubted herself?

"Then I repeat, what the hell are you doing here? I thought we were meant to have, you know...become one," and she waggles her eyebrows in a way that she fully intends to be infuriating, regardless of the unpleasant connotations involved in that statement. "If this is what your subconscious looks like then colour me surprised. I thought there'd be more bones."
necrosaint: (046)

[personal profile] necrosaint 2021-06-01 03:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Harrow should not give in to the urge to roll her eyes skyward and shake her head at Griddle ... but she does so anyway, because in the pit of hell reserved for epic screw-ups, what else is there left to do?

"There are," she says flatly, because honestly the lack of bones is enormously offensive here. Her subconscious may look like the inside of the Locked Tomb walled with scapulae, but it doesn't look like a typical prison, and it is not this. It is also not free of necromancy. "There should be more bones now. There aren't because I can't do anything now. I would say we were being divinely punished for the alterations Sextus made to the megatheorem that I fully intended to complete and enact, but -- the Necrolord Prime was kind to me." There, so that's out: they've met, and Harrow survived that encounter. She just passed out again later. The pace in her voice picks up as she continues, manic and desperate, "Clearly wrong about one important thing, and I still had time to make it work, I was sure of it, but -- if this was the outcome --"

The world tilts a little bit on its axis and turns into an alternate world where Harrowhark says things like, "I'm sorry, Nav. I tried."
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14912120)

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2021-06-01 04:00 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a brief moment where the roll of Harrows eyes, her face pursed up like a smacked ass, instills in Gideon a welcome sense of normalcy that almost (almost) thaws the chill that has taken hold of her spine. But in the next moment that bone-chill takes root all over again with a tenfold ferocity, because there's something all wrong about the way her necromancer is speaking to her now. There's a feverish, brittle quality to her words that feels out of place and unfamiliar, something different from the ghoulish intensity that usually comes over her when she's ranting about some cryptic necromancer thing.

This time she sounds...fretful? Frantic? It's a new side to Harrow that she's never truly witnessed before. Something she might have taken pleasure from at one point in her life, but which now only sends her into further paroxysms of uncertainty. She feels sweat prickling at the back of her neck, which isn't a sensation she'd expected to be able to perceive, what with being dead and all.

It's Harrow's next statement, though, that really makes her start to panic. Her aureate eyes widen perceptibly, and she holds up both hands, palms outward. Emphatically shakes her head.

"Oh, whoops, my bad. For a minute there I thought I heard you say you were sorry," and then, with perhaps a touch more honest concern than she'd fully intended, "Harrow, in plain language, please-- what is going on?"
necrosaint: (015)

[personal profile] necrosaint 2021-06-01 04:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Nav looking panicked just makes Harrow slightly more ... not panicked, exactly, because she is not letting herself panic. But on the inside she has been folded inside out and burned raw, frayed at the edges, and with her emotional rock also doing about as well as a butterfly under glass Harrow isn't able to recalibrate.

"You did hear that," she says firmly, "because I did say it and I am sorry because I tried to save you and obviously it didn't work very well, did it!"

It's not a question, really. It is a question, but it comes out as a frustrated exclamation. Harrow has to really bear down on herself, not let herself cry. Please, not in front of Gideon Nav--

("It's all right," says the Body, putting a hand at, but not touching, Harrow's shoulder. "It isn't your fault, Harrowhark."

Harrow doesn't know whether or not to believe her.)

"I do not know," she says, slowly and carefully, very precise, so cautiously enunciated it's obvious she's doing it to keep from doing something else, which in this case is breaking down entirely, "what has happened to us."
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14912110)

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2021-06-02 09:35 am (UTC)(link)
She's intimately aware, of course, that the dynamics between the two of them have been through some significant and convoluted changes, those last days in Canaan house. It's still weird, entirely questionable, but a significant fact nonetheless. She isn't - however - quite prepared for this level of demonstrative evidence. As such Gideon blinks, that vague panic still gnawing at her bones, desperately casting about now for some way to restore her sense of the normal and the right, despite the strange circumstances they've found themselves inexplicably cast into.

Like Harrowhark before her, this means resorting to insults.

"Look, you desiccated asswipe, it was me who was meant to be saving you. Unless of course you wanted to end up dying in a bone, crushed to smithereens by even more bones? Admittedly that seems like the way you'd choose to go, but not on my watch," she huffs out an irritated breath, even as something in her starts to fractionally soften. Before she can start to think things through and therefore be overcome by abject horror, she moves toward her necromancer. Slowly, as one might a flighty and unpredictable animal. She extends a hand toward the narrow jut of her shoulder (incidentally, the very same one The Body happens to be not-touching). "I made my choice, Harrow. Now please tell me you didn't go ahead and spoil it by getting yourself killed."
necrosaint: (020)

[personal profile] necrosaint 2021-06-02 03:40 pm (UTC)(link)
There's so much comfort in those insults, Harrowhark clings to it in the corner of her mind that lets her do that. She's wrapping the insults up in a new bone cocoon and shoving it over there where she can enjoy it later. The Body will watch over it for her—especially since it's not as if she can look at her, what with her hand and Gideon's hand trying to perform some kind of double-vision dance that is going to make Harrow throw up if she stares too hard at it.

"You did," she attempts to reassure. "I wish you hadn't, honestly," comes out a little haughtier and more pissed off, but Gideon saw that coming, too, she is sure, "But you did. And Camilla, who deserved it, and Ianthe, who ..."

Well.

"... She has her uses."

Yeah. They don't know about Coronabeth, and can't speak to it; the other Third twin might be alive somewhere, and Harrow just knows that eventually Gideon's going to ask because she cared about her, and she won't actually have an answer

"I didn't get killed. I was trying to get you unkilled, git. Ianthe was helping. We would've still been Lyctors properly," and the we here, she doesn't mean Ianthe anymore, "If it hadn't all been so sudden." If you hadn't just jumped like that, Gideon. This is all your fault, Gideon. Except it's not. Harrow knows that much; she's just not saying it.
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[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2021-06-02 06:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Gideon rolls her eyes so far back into her head that she swears she should be able to see her skull, before allowing her hand to drop away from Harrow's shoulder. Instead she sidles over to one of the uncomfortable looking beds that occupy their otherwise dreary little cell, and looks up at the other woman with an annoyance that's only half feigned.

"Thanks so much for saving my life, Gideon. I owe you big time, Gideon. You're the hero we all need but clearly don't deserve, Gideon. That's what I should be hearing right now. I didn't need you to get me unkilled," she says, despite the fact that gears are already turning in her mind, the steady processing of everything Harrow has just told her. So it had worked. Harrow had become a Lyctor. Camilla was alright. Even that slippery Third twin was alright, despite that she hadn't been looking so hot the last time Gideon had seen her. There's something in that, some unnamable bright spark of feeling, at knowing that what she'd done had meant something.

And finally her brain catches up to her mouth when she says, "so hold up, you're saying I could be unkilled?"

It might be something of a redundant question, given that she's standing here right now. Feeling far more alive than a dead person has any right to.
necrosaint: (053)

[personal profile] necrosaint 2021-06-04 02:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Yes.

Yes, really, Harrow does owe her that much. The appreciation. The thanks. She's so bitter about it, though—so angry that Gideon had to die, that she had to let go right when things were clear between them about how much they meant to each other. At least somewhat. They may not have been the clearest, but they were better; they were a real necro-cav pair, if nothing else. Maybe they had been becoming real friends, instead of what Harrow thought friends were.

"Thank you, Nav, but I wish you hadn't," she says very softly, holding back tears, because she is not going to cry in some other world's prison, not about anything at all, "And yes, I think you could. Do you remember the megatheorem? Not—what it is, but that Sextus and I kept talking about it."

Does any of this matter? Nope. Does she want to talk about it because it's familiar and makes her feel safe and intelligent? Yep.
frontlinetitties: please do not take (pic#14912120)

[personal profile] frontlinetitties 2021-06-04 03:28 pm (UTC)(link)
She catches it there, the odd, aqueous glitter of the other woman's eyes, and it takes a moment for her frankly stupefied brain to fully realise what that means. Harrowhark, holding back tears. Harrowhark, holding back tears, for her. It makes her heart do something strange and not entirely pleasant inside her chest, somewhere between a thump and a twinge, a sharp hot feeling that she doesn't know how to name. Thank fuck for her smeared, ugly face-paint is all she can really think in that moment. The thick white and black - now blotchy and blurred to almost grey in places, threatening to flake away above the eyebrows - which conveniently covers the flush of heat that comes over her then.

Gideon clears her throat, and tries to 'subtly' look away. Focuses instead on the question that has just been posed to her.

"I remember the two of you babbling about some tedious necromantic thing, yeah," she says, with what she hopes is a casual shrug. She doesn't remember all the ins and outs of it, not the specifics, but recalls more about the conversations than she's letting on. She may be the muscle of this outfit, but sometimes she does pay attention.
necrosaint: (010)

[personal profile] necrosaint 2021-06-04 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Harrow's not a fan either. Of having feelings. At all, regardless of what they are; they are detestable and distracting, and grief colors her mind in a way she wants absolutely nothing to do with at all.

But later, she is going to fix Gideon's paint.

Somehow.

"Right," she says instead, trying to force herself to focus on that—on the theorem, and not on emotions, or what might be going through her cavalier's mind—"so we weren't ready yet, is the thing. What he thought, and what I came to concur with, is that the megatheorem wasn't finished yet. Ianthe and the original Lyctors all thought it was, but our founder, my ancestor Anastasia, she died without ascension. Why? She figured it out. That there was a way to save the cavalier, there was another step. Sextus had a start of it, relating to anchoring the soul to the body so it couldn't be entirely consumed, but ..." Harrow lets out a frustrated little noise, balling her fist until it releases a few drips of blood. "We didn't get the chance to try any of it. Or keep working on it. Damn it all."

But how much does that matter when Gideon's right in front of her? Or is all of this unreal?