test drive
Firstly, thank you for your interest! Secondly, since the game hasn't begun and therefore characters haven't actually gone to a world yet, this test drive is going to be a little different. It's intended to be presented as a mini-mission of sorts, on a much smaller scale and timeframe than a real mission in-game but with a somewhat similar feel. Because of this, if you join the game, you're allowed to count this as game canon, so make sure you make choices you want to follow your character into the game!
You know how this works, so go forth and have fun, and don't forget to reserve!
BASICSAnwick might have been a beautiful town once. It's hard to tell now, since most of the buildings are scorched and crumbling, but they do resemble some rural modern-day buildings. Likewise, the people don't appear to be living too much in the past; several are carrying intimidating guns. For years, Anwick has been terrorized by dragons, living in fear of the next attack. Not anymore.
The people have just ended a bloody battle. Several people limp towards the outskirts of town, holding their bleeding wounds or new burns. In the center of town lies a slain dragon, the last full-grown one left in the world. To be honest, it looks like they've already taken care of their own problem.
A monotonous voice comes through your communication device to explain. You aren't here to help the townspeople; you're here for the dragons. The one motionless on the ground may have been the last adult, but it certainly wasn't the last dragon. Her children are located in a nearby cave, alone and orphaned. They're the ones you need to protect.
WYRMLINGSThe wyrmlings are still growing up, only the size of a small dog. Each has a slightly different appearance, but all of them have at least a few bright copper scales. They're beautiful, and they look a little bit harmless... at least, until they notice you. These dragons have never been exposed to humans before. Or anyone outside of their family, for that matter. They're small and scared, and they don't know any other way to protect themselves than to attack. Luckily, because of their tiny size, they can't do much more than small burns at a time — but make no mistake, it still hurts like hell.
The cave they're located in is pitch-black and labyrinthine. Every footstep echoes throughout it if you aren't light enough on your feet. It'll be difficult to navigate if you don't MacGyver yourself a torch or other form of lighting. Cell phones will work decently, at least until their battery dies, but you don't want to get stuck deep within the cave with no light.
If you do manage to get through the cave and rescue some without getting burned to a crisp, the trouble's not over yet. You'll have to find a safe place to stash them until they can be relocated; the townspeople aren't done with their dragon-slaying yet, after all. Walk into town with one in tow, and you're putting a target on your back. (Of course, this doesn't mean you can't do it.)
PROMPTSONE ✗ GOING ROGUE
Not feeling too obedient? Maybe you're ignoring the orders and helping the wounded people in town instead... or just coming to gawk. Maybe you're coming to slay the wyrmlings yourself. Whatever it is, at least try to be sneaky about it.
TWO ✗ THE DRAGON'S CAVE
Try to navigate the cave, fail to navigate the cave and get lost, or try to take the wyrmlings without getting barbecued. Somehow, you get the feeling that you aren't alone. Those footsteps are probably just your imagination... or they could be townspeople coming to kill you and the dragons. Of course, they could also be an ally, but you'd better hope you don't find out.
THREE ✗ HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON
You've gotten the dragon(s) to a secure campsite out of town, but the fun's not over yet. They're kind of freaking out a little. Some of them are still spitting fire. Even the less aggressive ones are crying shrilly, bound to attract townspeople or at least annoy everyone nearby. It can't be too hard to calm them down; they're basically scaly, fire-breathing babies, right?
FOUR ✗ NIGHT TIME
It's been a long day, and now it's time for the crew to sleep. Get to know your tentmates, try to ignore them, pray that they don't want to bring along a wyrmling to cuddle... or maybe you've been put on night watch with a few others, in which case you'd better find a way to pass the time until your shift's over.
FIVE ✗ CHIT CHAT
Network option! Maybe you've got a little downtime and you're bored. Or maybe you're frantically asking the rest of the team how bad a dragon bite is. Maybe you're just trying to figure out how the hell this magical jewelry thing works. No matter what, you get one username to identify you and one only — if you don't enter one, it will default to your real name (for example, Voldemort's would be tomriddle.) Choose wisely... or make it assfarts69, if that's your thing. More information on the network is here!
SIX ✗ WILDCARD
Do whatever the hell you want. Explore the ashes of the burned city, try to run as far away from this crap as possible, or try to teach a wyrmling tricks. The world is your oyster. |
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thirstology2015-09-14 06:51 pm
clarke griffin . the 100
[ she’s carefully stepping over the debris present on the streets of the city, eyes sliding over the assortment of dilapidated buildings when she receives the set of instructions over the communicator, her’s happens to be a simple banded watch fastened tightly on her wrist so there isn’t a chance she may use it, and immediately her jaw sets into something stubborn. because protecting dragons ( dragons, a concept she’d dismissed at an early age as being part of fairytales ) shouldn’t take precedent over helping these people. who seem bone tired, guns slung over some of their shoulders, which she eyes warily as they pass—and other’s reddened with burns that could fester if not given the correct attention. really it only takes her a split second to decide what she’s going to and instead of heading towards the city center, she goes the opposite way to the outskirts where the injured seem to be flocking. it’s with a practiced efficiency that she calls some of the worst injured towards her, stanches bleeding with pressure applied trough a layer of cloth she found. sure, she’d prefer gloves, but there isn’t time for that—and alastair hasn’t provided them with materials for the mission, much less healing supplies. she wonders privately, at her new employer, at the monotone that had come up from her communicator and said not to bother with the townspeople.
there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be able to meet the objective without leaving people limping, and though she’s learned that diplomacy doesn’t always work, it’s worth a try at least.
after helping as much as she can without supplies, even alcohol for sanitation, she wipes her bloodied hands on the already dirtied fabric of her pants. she can be found like this, irritated, with beads of sweat on her brow or it’s possible that she’ll turn to you, ask if you have any extra material. fabric that can be turned into a makeshift tourniquet. ]
two.
[ there’s little left to do, after tending to as many people as she can, then to try to fulfill the more direct part of the orders administered. though her wandering through the labyrinth of the cave might seem aimless, she’s keeping track of her steps in her head, it wouldn’t do her any good to get lost in here. especially alone. stepping lightly so her footsteps don’t echo, it occurs to her that she’s been in a situation like this before, though it had been decidedly more unpleasant to say the least. this cave reminds her of reapers and their tunnels, and she tries to shake the image of bodies lying in carts out of her head.
this isn’t the ground, at least not the one she knows.
feel free to find her with a dragon she’s found clutched in her arms, it’s hissing overly loud in the pervasive quiet, and trying to struggle out of the jacket she’s swaddled it in so it doesn’t decide to escape. ]
three.
[ it’s cries are annoying, that’s for sure, shrill and high and she wonders how such a sound could possibly come out of the throat of something so small. she looks at the scaled dragon with a small measure of exasperation, and it looks back, puffs small breaths of fire that turn into small rings of smoke after a minute. and she raises an eyebrow at what she assumes was an attempt at roasting her. sighing heavily, she turns to the nearest member of her new team. ] Have you figured out how to quiet yours yet?
[ maybe it senses the insult, because the dragon hisses before nudging at her legs, tries to bite through the fabric of her pants with small teeth. sighing she reaches down, pulls it off her, not even wincing though it has managed the feet of tearing into her clothing. pinpricking teeth marks inot her skin. ]
They’re a handful, aren’t they?
[ it’s delivered wryly, though laced with a bit of grudging amusement.
points for understatement of the year? ]
twoooooo
she was, anyway, before everyone she trusted lied to her. now she feels a bit like a coyote in the woods again, paranoid and untrusting of strangers. she doesn't want to make attachments again only to find out they're lying to her, too. still, she can help someone out without being their friend. when she spots clarke struggling to keep her dragon still, she moves closer, out of the shadows.
she has a small dragon in her arms as well; it's struggling to get out, but it doesn't even seem to faze her. she has it held so that it can't bite or burn her, but it probably wouldn't be doing that anyway. all it does is cry. ]
I can carry your thing if you want.
[ dragon, malia. not "thing". ]
no subject
It looks like you’ve got your hands full already. [ it’s said level and steady, and part of her is inclined to leave it at that. it’s been awhile since she’s traded niceties with anyone, hadn’t had the time to do so with all the stress—the responsibility placed on her shoulders. a breath before : ] Thank you though, for the offer.
[ and maybe she already feels a twinge of responsibility for this girl who’s appeared out of nowhere, because she takes a step closer, posture less rigid and less like she’s preparing to strike if needed. ] Do you need help finding your way back out?
It might be good idea for us to stick together.
no subject
[ she shrugs, like it doesn't really matter that much. it's not like it's that much extra effort to keep another winged chihuahua close, not when she can do so much more. at clarke's offer, she shrugs again, noncommittal. the dragons do seem a bit calmer now that they've found each other; perhaps it is best to stay together. like a business relationship, sort of. just two babydragonsitters. ]
I'm pretty good at finding my way around, [ malia says, sniffing the air a little bit. ] Like, tracking and stuff. But Thing's not crying so loud now that another one's around, so yeah. Let's stick together.
[ yeah, that's right. she named it thing. this is animal cruelty, probably. whatever. ]
...I'm Malia. [ it's said like an afterthought, something that just crossed her mind. she's still getting used to introducing herself to people, but if she's introducing thing, she might as well. ]
no subject
[ it’s the reason she had been trying to be quiet down here in the first place, lest she make too much noise, alert the wrong person to her presence. she hasn’t forgotten the unrest outside, the townspeople carrying guns. it doesn’t seem that far into the realm of impossibility that a few could come down here with the intention of ridding themselves of the threat of dragons and their fire altogether. she doesn’t know what the two of them would do, if faced with a barrel pointed at them, maybe she could act as a distraction for… malia to escape. without her being consciously aware of it, her brow has become to knit, expression taking on the suggestion of something more severe.
it hasn’t escaped her notice, how malia sniffed the air as if she could smell the exit, the route to the mouth of the cave. but doesn’t comment on the strangeness of the gesture. ] Tracking, that’s useful.
Useful enough to make you employable, maybe.
[ because it has crossed her mind that whatever brought them here, wasn’t an accident, maybe they were chosen. it’s natural for her after everything to be suspicious, of the intentions of those around her, alastair now is the focus of all of her scrutiny.
it’s an afterthought as well, but she’s not so far gone not to tack on— ] Clarke.
no subject
Maybe. I guess. I'm not the best one where I come from.
[ it's not that special of a skill. scott is better at it than her. so is derek. they've been at it longer, after all. but they're not here now, so she supposes that makes her the best.
it's a kind of scary feeling.
she hadn't considered the ramifications of walking out the door on the pack. it means she doesn't really have a pack. there's no scott there to tell her what to do. while she's the type to march to her own beat entirely, it's intimidating to have to know what the right thing to do is all the time. scott's good at that. her? not so much. ]
If we have to defend ourselves, I can take them. I'm stronger than I look. And fast.
[ clarke has a roughened feel to her, but she's not supernatural. that much malia can tell. who's to say whether she's any good at self-defense? chances are malia wouldn't stick around to help if things got too bad, but as long as things stay non-life-threatening, why not offer her protection? ]
no subject
though. octavia was just a kid as well, had something in her that made her strong, something that made her get back up every time she had been knocked down. something in malia reminds her of the same, speaks of resilience, and her mouth curves upwards just slightly unbidden. ] I don’t doubt it.
[ out of anyone else’s mouth it might sound mocking, but the words are steady, level, and maybe just a bit wistful if malia is paying close enough attention.
she had seen octavia slit a man’s throat through his hazmat suit, and after that, she supposes she can’t judge anyone based on appearance alone. on age.
her dragon squirms, this time just trying to make itself more comfortable in the bracket of her arms, and she glances down at it with a little less exasperation and just a hint of sympathy. it weighs less than a rifle in her arms, it’s only a child, and its already being hunted. ]
Do you want to lead the way?
[ it’s a test of sorts. she’d been keeping track of her steps, the way back to the mouth of the cave, and knows which direction they should head in. she tells herself it isn’t out of order, verifying what malia has told her, because it’s only common sense to know the skills of those around her.
especially malia who she is close to naming ally in her mind. ]
no subject
she doesn't want to think about stiles.
malia awkwardly pets at her dragon in the hopes of soothing it a bit. thing seems just as unenthused with malia as she is with it, looking at her strangely. ]
—Yeah, [ she answers; malia never leads the way. she follows scott, follows the pack. not anymore. she's going to be her own alpha. ] I wanna get out of here.
[ and hand thing off to someone else; unfortunately, thing will decide that tormenting her is its purpose in life, but she doesn't know that yet. malia crouches to the ground, still clutching her dragon, but leaving one hand free to feel the ground. see if anyone's passed through. she's silent for a moment, narrowing her eyes as she listens for the sound of wind and sniffs, hoping to go further away from the dragon smell. ]
I think it's this way. [ malia points, looking back up at clarke before rising to her feet again. thing squirms around and malia gathers it back into her arms; it never had a chance, not with her strength. ] I guess your dragon likes you.
no subject
Maybe it just wants to get out of here as much as we do.
[ which isn’t out of the realm of possibility, the cave is dark to a point where she has to squint to make out the finer details of malia’s expression, the walls are damp, and most of all it’s a good place to be cornered. maybe the dragon in her arms is still now, complacent because it knows it’s being carried to safety. or maybe the phenomenon is purely due to the fact it has a companion in the dragon that malia is holding.
she thinks that it must be natural, instinctual to feel sorry for something so small. compares the sympathy for it’s plight to what she had felt on seeing the townspeople outside limping with burns and opened blisters on their skin, lacerations filled with debris. caused from claws, the same ones that are on her dragon now, only larger.
large enough to tear into flesh, make wounds that could cause someone unfortunate to bleed out. she doesn’t blame the townspeople for protecting their own. it’s what she would have done in the same position.
though if a townsperson showed up now, gun lifted and cocked, she would hold the bundle in her arms tigher to her chest. say that they were taking the dragons somewhere else, far enough that they wouldn’t be able to come back once grown and cause the same damage. even though that may not be the truth.
tilting her head, she motions for malia to lead. content with following.
still, she is curious : ] Where did you learn how to do that?
one
When he spots Clarke, she seems like she knows what she's doing. He swallows before he speaks up:] Please, let me help. I'll be an extra set of hands. Just tell me whatever I need to do. [His eyes move over the supplies easily. Harry recognizes everything and takes inventory of what is available. With that in mind, he thinks that he should be able to grab anything she asks for—well, assuming she asks.
If not, he'll take matters into his own hands so that he hopes he can pick up on things fast enough. He's far from a medic, but that doesn't change his thoughts on the matter. After all, the Battle of Hogwarts is too fresh in his mind, and he remembers being unable to help the injured there. He'd like not to repeat that again, and maybe he can pick up some tricks so he can help people who are rescuing the dragons.]
no subject
[ there’s a second where she wonders at it, how he came to her and asked what to do—because she hasn’t been given any authority here. and from what she can tell, they look to be the same age. maybe it shows on her, that she’s been weighted with responsibility before, had accepted it and been forced to make impossible decisions for the sake of her people. her voice takes on an edge of frustration-- ] We’re limited to what we can do here. What we need are sterile materials, bandages. The biggest danger to these people now is infection if the burns aren't treated correctly. Water should be good enough to clear the more minor injuries, then they need to be covered.
If you have steady hands, then what you can do to help is use them to apply pressure to those with wounds that are still bleeding.
[ a moment where she takes her wrist, wipes at her brow, because her hands at best are… unsanitary at this point. not that she seems too bothered, by the fact that there’s dried blood on them. ]
I’ve dealt with burns before. [ from radiation, acid fog. ] Just not from dragons.
[ said just this side of incredulous, she’s not a wizard harry. ]
no subject
I can help with a lot of that, [he says, urgency filling his voice. Harry reaches back for his wand.] And tell you a bit about dragons. Thankfully, these dragons are more of your ... normal variety, so the burns themselves are like most burns. I've been burnt by dragons before. It isn't pleasant, but here I am, alive. If you have any questions about it, I can tell you more. [But "treat them like burns" seems to be where he'd fall back. Harry can be creative in his solutions, but sometimes he really isn't, and that's where he'd fall in his descriptions of being burnt by them. Of course, he's also been burnt while mostly being on an adrenaline high.]
Dragons aside, I can create water with this, and duplicate materials. I know some healing spells, but I'm not a trained medic. I can help with some of the less severe cuts and burns, but we'll need to seek treatment for the things that are more dire. And—er, if you don't believe me, I'll give a demonstration. [Harry did catch that incredulous tone, after all. He just hopes to help her out, so there's an urgency to this offer. If he has to perform this on himself, he will.]
no subject
Too startled to murmur anything but thanks, the girl takes their leave of them with wide eyes and a reverent shake of her head—what else is she to do? And what is he to do with his new-found companion? Regarding Clarke with a soft smile, a nod of his head, he seems to recognize her as his comrade: ]
There is precious little reason why we cannot help the both of them, don't you think?
[ Both the dragons and the battle-ravaged townsfolk.
But before he can continue on, he pales considerably, staggering forward as though he were on the verge of collapse, his breath coming in shallow pants. Clarke's discerning eye might be able to catch sight of the bandages which his gild his throat, the wrappings visible through the cut of his shihakushou, starkly white against black silk.
Bracing himself against a nearby building, he regains his balance, steadies his breath. No, this is not the first impression he'd like to have made, but there's no escaping it, now is there? ]
It is a worthy cause, gathering medical materials. For not only the townsfolk, but ourselves as well-- our comrades may need them in the future. [ There will be battles in the future, and dealing with dragons is no easy business besides. ] I can heal, but perhaps I should reserve my efforts for those who need it most.
[ Because he really hasn't the strength to spare, as much as he'd like to think otherwise. His body is...
(Twisting in upon itself.) ]
I'm Ukitake, by the way. Juushirou Ukitake, Captain to the Thirteenth Division of the Court Guard Companies of my homeland. [ He manages, then, to dip his head into a small bow. ] I am ever at your service, Miss.
no subject
he’s right, though. there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be able to do both, and he could help a great deal with the effort from what she’s witnessed. or maybe whatever he’s done, has taken the breath from him, left him weakened because he’s alarming pale. she almost reaches for him, when he stumbles, and is quietly relieved when he finds his own footing. it does cause her, to look closer at him, try to find the source of his malady, and her eyes rest on the bandages circling his throat. that don’t seem to stop there, trail down to his chest, and she wonders if there’s more that she can’t see.
it’s a good sign, or she thinks it’s one that they haven’t bled through yet. that the wounds underneath are sealed, for now, at least.
he shouldn’t mind the impression he gives now, leaning against the half crumbled building, because her first will always be the light from his hands. the way it flowed over the girl’s wound, incandescent. ]
It’s Clarke. [ said plainly, absent of any formality, because no one has really addressed her as miss. not since the ark. a moment passes where she considers what she should say, even though they are teammates, allies for now she doesn’t know him. or what his intentions may be. a breath that’s close to a sigh, before she comes to the conclusion that she needs someone to talk this through with. and maybe because he seems kind, because he’s sacrificed his own well being to help an innocent victim of the situation, he gets to be that someone. ] I’m not sure we should help them, the dragons.
These people are angry, and for good reason. Maybe I’d be more inclined to if we knew what we are going to do with them in the long run. Sure, we can protect them now. But what about when they get bigger.
You’ve seen what their predecessor has done here.
[ it’s frustrating not to have all the information at the ready, she’s used to being privy to all this, making the battle plans and strategies and not waiting to hear them. maybe he is as well, given his string of titles. it sounds like his position is something akin to captain of the guard, and wonders if he can fight. shoot a gun.
and really, she’s held back her curiosity for too long because her next words are blurted and abrupt: ] What you did back there, what was it exactly? I’ve never seen anything like it.
no subject
But that war is neither here or there, is it? It is Clarke who stands before him now, and it is his edict to protect humans regardless of circumstance. For her, he smiles again, pushing himself away from the wall once he feels that his balance is regained, that his footing will be sure. There will be a time when he will have to seek out medical assistance for himself, but it is not now—for a while longer, he can manage.
He'll be all right. ]
In this and all worlds, there exists energy invisible to the naked eye. It makes up the wind in the air, helps all living things to flourish and grow, forms the atmosphere and lingers in places close to nature.
[ —there is something brittle to his voice when he speaks, a rasp to every breath he draws, but he is nothing if not genuine when speaking of his ability, happy to inspire wonder and good faith. For he'd seen it, before it faded, the look of awe in Clarke's eyes. And as he continues on, he is neither boastful nor proud, but eager, keen to inspire that look again, because it resembled something close to hope.
(And that is the most precious thing of all.) ]
And sometimes, it can be found in people as well. [ His voice hushes playfully then, and he cups a hand to the side of his mouth as though he meant to impart some great secret upon her: ] If one knows the trick to gathering it up, using it to facilitate healing is not so large a feat.
[ But it is meaningful, all the same, especially when there are so many injured among the townsfolk. His eyes turn, then, to the dragon's cave—regarding it from a distance. Attuned as he is to the earth and to souls, he can feel the presence of the wyrmlings, their numbers great enough to be alarming to those who'd spent the entirety of their lives combating the dragons to protect both themselves and their homes. ]
The dragons are young, yet; there is time to teach them how to coexist with humans, and to teach the people of this town to accept them. Together they will thrive, and apart...
[ He bows his head, after that, growing quiet before his lips press into a thin line. ]
I know I will not heed the order which has been relayed to us, but I cannot speak on behalf of others. If it comes to battle, there are those who might turn the weapons upon the people here, and I will not stand for it.
[ Will you? is question implicitly asked. ]
no subject
[Clara glances up from the dragon she's attempting to cradle, who's becoming restless and attempting to chomp on her hair. She keeps having to lean her head back and push its head away. But her dragon isn't crying or making any noises, which she supposes is an accomplishment.]
Mine seems to like me, though. It didn't when I first grabbed it, but now it won't leave me alone.
[She sets the thing down on the ground and takes two big steps away, and watches with exasperation as it plods along after her. She glances up at the other woman with a look that says see?]
no subject
Maybe I’m just unlikeable.
[ it’s said dryly, half sarcastic. she hadn’t expected it, the dragon that is, to warm up to her. the instructions were to protect it from harm, not to endear it towards her. besides, she wouldn’t even know where she would start with the endeavor. her’s is not at all like clara’s that looks at the other woman with affection.
her’s looks at her like it might want to give sinking it’s teeth into her leg another try. though for now it just stares at her, as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike. ]
You would think it’d be grateful.
no subject
[She pauses, offering the other woman a smile as she laughs.]
You seem perfectly lovely. Think they're just dragons being...well, dragons. I know someone that may as well be a dragon, with how odd he is. He's the exact same way.
[She doesn't think it's that impressive that her dragon's following her around. She just acts motherly and things tend to follow her around like a little duck. It's probably part of being a teacher. Things like that just tend to happen.]
Want me to try and help with yours?