cityofsin_ooc | 🚕 TEST DRIVE 017

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🚕 TEST DRIVE 017

Test Drive Meme

Considering apping to the City of Sin, but unsure of who to bring or if they'll fit? Feel free to give the setting a test drive here! These are a perfect way of getting your playing sample done for the application.

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Rules | FAQ | Taken Characters | Reserves | Applications

→ Comment with the character you'd like to test drive in the setting, with name and canon in the subject line
→ Choose a scenario or create your own!
→ Tag around!

Possible Scenarios
Please note that all characters will initially arrive in their assigned housing; they are free to explore the City to their heart's content after that!

01. A New Arrival: Hello, New Person! You seem to have found yourself on a sidewalk in the City of Sin with nothing but the clothes on your back and a stomach churning feeling of being displaced. Thankfully, the streets are full of people - Watch out that you don't get mugged!

02. Demonic Presences: You were just minding your own business, weren't you? But that's always when bad things seem to happen, and the City of Sin isn't really that friendly. Whatever bar or street you're hanging out in suddenly go dim, filling the area with an unnerving feeling as the shadows on the walls jump out into reality. We suggest you phone a friend for help, or maybe try running?

03. Party Hard: You've been invited to a massive, elegant party in the Tower District that spills out its doors in welcome. Obviously, this whole thing is weird and you don't know who your hosts are, but maybe you can get some free drinks and food out of it! This place might not be so bad.

04. Prominence: The City of Sin influences its population on a weekly basis. Too bad you came right smack dab in the middle of a heavy Prominence. Lust, Greed, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, or Pride: choose your sin and be wicked.

05. Trouble: Not everyone is sunshine and roses here. Some people are violent and cruel, raised in the sludge of a sinful city. And they like to pick on people they think can't fight back. Are you that person? Or are you the Hero who can't stand to watch? Worse yet, could you be the person doing the instigating? Villain.

06. Carnival: The City has carnivals or festivals now and then; you're lucky to catch one! With its open booths filled with cork gun games and funnel cakes, how can someone not have any fun! Go win your darling a stuffed animal, or meet someone new on the spinning cup ride. You might even see someone you know being talked into sitting in the Dunk Tank.

07. Network: There's a network device in your pocket - or at least a familiar object that seems to work in mysterious ways. Perhaps you can take to that and ask for a bit of help? Or maybe you'd prefer to have a little fun with all of this. Surely someone will reply.

08. Wild Card:Choose your own adventure in the game's setting!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Now the grin is gone, and Lucifer is looking at her with flat irritation.

"Obviously an imposter," he says. "Some miscreant who dares to claim my name. Well whoever he was, he wasn't me. And he certainly wasn't the Devil."

Where was a drink? He needed a drink. He didn't have the patience to deal with misguided humans while sober. He flags down a passing waiter, grabs a glass of champagn off of her tray, and tips it down his throat.

Edited 2019-01-08 01:55 (UTC)

"He might say the same thing about you," Diana noted.

In a way, she liked the irritation better than all of the purring and demurring. It felt more genuine. And Diana was all about the genuine these days. It was just much easier to deal with. Warts and all.

At least she knew that this man and the one she'd met before weren't the same. There was no shapeshifting involved. Not transformations. No vessels or any of that...stuff. No, these were two separate entities.

Well, it was a multiverse. That seemed fair, somehow.

"May I read your aura?" she asked politely.

"My what?" Lucifer says, although he's not really questioning the word. He knows what auras are, of course. Complete nonsense invented by humans, that's what it was.

"Oh, bloody hell," he says, exasperated. He sets the champagne glass down on top of the piano. "Do whatever you like, darling. But if you're going to stand around looking for pretty colours instead of playing, how about you move over and give someone else a chance, hmm?"

She stepped aside, curious and only slightly offended. But mostly curious. She was used to people dismissing and underestimating her. It was the image she'd cultivated for herself. Every member of her family had a different means of coping with vampirism. Selene was a monster. Artemis was a child. And Diana...

Diana liked being a flake.

But she wasn't. Not entirely.

And as she stepped out of the way, she opened up her inner eye to take a glimpse at the man's aura.

Lots of red for anger and mottled, shifting colors for confusion. No surprise there. The colors were lively and full, though. Which meant he wasn't a vampire. But there was a particular sparkle. Diana had seen it before. A magical marker most humans didn't have.

Lucifer slips onto the piano stool, and unlike Diana, there's no hesitation. He immediately begins to play, confident and unashamed. It's a nice jazzy little tune, with plenty of bounce to it. And he's good. very good. And a bit off a show off, by the looks of it.

"So how's my aura?" he says, leaning his head back to grin at her while his fingers continue to play. Aura reading is nonsense, of course, but that doesn't mean he can't indulge. And send her another seductive little smirk. "Like what you see?"

"Well," she said, "you certainly believe what you're saying." There weren't any indications of lying. But aura perception was hardly a lie-detector test, as she constantly had to remind her sister, Selene.

Diana blinked his aura away and leaned over, setting her elbow against the piano, resting her chin in her palm.

Whatever he was, he was talented. Almost as good as she was.

She fell into the rhythm of the song, and started to vocalize a little. Nothing fancy. Just a few harmonies and scats. Jazz wasn't her favorite genre, but she'd been quite the hottie on the speakeasy scene, back in the day. She knew her stuff.

"Of course I believe what I'm saying. What I'm saying is the truth. It's not my fault if you don't believe it," he says, rolling his eyes in long-suffering exasperation. "I don't lie."

The music shifts a little then, getting just a hint of a irritated huff in the chords. But he quirks an eyebrow at her when she starts to vocalise, and continues to play, shifting to match what she's doing.

"Not bad," he says. "If we were still in LA I might offer you a job, Ms Diana."

If he didn't lie, and if he was the Devil, then that meant that he didn't remember her. Which wasn't as funny as it might have been. The City was a funny place. The multiverse too. Diana would have to go into the library archives on this one. Which was a challenge that she actually would enjoy. It had been a while since she used her Aramaic.

In the meanwhile, she smirked a little bit, vocalizing until the end of the song before she tucked her hair behind her ear and shrugged a bit. "If we were still in LA, I'd have a job and my boss probably wouldn't appreciate the side hustle."

She could only imagine telling Arty that she was singing for the Devil.

Then again, there was something appropriate about that.

"I've been living in LA on and off since the 1800s, actually. I have several jobs out there."

Lucifer lets the song come to an end with a flourish, but remains seated at the piano stool, as if he might start playing again at any moment.

Then he looks at her, leaning back and considering.

"Since the 1800s?" he says, reaching over pick up the champagne glass take another sip, all while keeping a close eye on her. "Bit long-lived for a human, aren't you?"

Which was rather suspect. There weren't that many immortal humans running about, after all. Dear Old Dad generally preferred humans to all kick the bucket after a few years.

She frowned. "When was the first or last time I claimed to be human?"

The comings and goings of the City always managed to throw things into a complete tailspin. Diana lived her life (or unlife) fairly openly, but she sometimes forgot that not everyone was immediately in on the secret. It wasn't like it was part of the welcome packet or anything.

So. He was new. She could deal with that.

But she was pretty sure an angel--even a fallen one--ought to know the difference between a human and a Cainite.

"Well it's usually a pretty safe assumption. Earth's full of them, after all," he says, breezily. "You're quite a busy lot, really. Like rabbits." And he smiles, then, at his little joke.

"Yes," she agreed. "They are."

Diana admired human beings greatly. She thought they were better than any other creature. Better than Cainites. Of course, that wasn't hard.

And yes, she was quite jealous of them.

But she had never really...wanted to go back. To be one again. Even if it meant wonderful things like being able to have children, or whatever. She'd been a crap human being and she knew it. She was better this way.

"I'm...Cainite, dude."

A blank look meets this statement.

"I'm sorry, you're a what?" he says. What the bloody hell was a Cainite?

Hoo boy.

Diana relaxed a little bit, the tension in her shoulders oozing away. Whatever else this guy was. Human. Angel. Demon. Something else... He wasn't...that was to say, he didn't hold the deed to her soul. Such that it was.

"A vampire," she said calmly, leaning over to walk her fingers along the treble notes of the keyboard. "A Malkavian, to be specific."

Really, humans had such the oddest ideas sometimes. Why on earth would he want anyone's souls? What did they even think he was going to do with them? Start a collection?

And at Diana's pronouncement, Lucifer laughs, an ungainly snort. "A vampire," he says, with the kind of grin that suggests that he doesn't believe her at all. Who says the Devil couldn't be guilty of a little hypocrisy? "Looking to take a bite out of my neck, are you?"

"No," she replied.

She started to play a treble section of Bach, wrong-handed and backwards. Not to be contrary, but out of necessity, since she was at an awkward angle to the keyboard. Now that she wasn't so afraid of this stranger, she couldn't see any harm in showing off just a little bit.

It had been a long time since she'd met another pianist of her caliber.

Or close to it.

"I don't drink live. You must be very new here, or you'd know that." She frowned a little, watching her hand. "Technically, I guess, I'm the vampire Prince of the City. Just because I'm the oldest. But there really aren't enough of us here for that to matter. Anyway, I hate politics."

Showing off pays off; there's a slight look of surprise, and touch of the impressed. "So she can play," Lucifer says, before shifting off the stool to allow her to sit properly. "Must be my turn to lounge attractively on the piano." And then he does just that; long limbs leaning off the side of the piano, one elbow propping him up as he looks at Diana with that ever present smile.

"Pity," he adds then. A bite out of his neck from an attractive woman who thinks she's a vampire sounds like great fun, in his opinion. "But you're not wrong. I am new around here."

Diana slipped into the seat effortlessly, without missing a note. She switched hands and started to play the bass with her left. For someone who looked as delicate as a bird, she had a knack for using her fingers in ways that made them look like they were going to snap. But, of course, they didn't. She played up and down the keyboard, like she was just going for a leisurely stroll. It came to her naturally.

God. She missed this.

For a self-indulgent moment she was silent. But then she glanced up at the stranger--maybe she would call him 'Lucy'--and gave him an absent smile. "You'd know me if you'd been around awhile," she said. "I run a couple of programs at the library. And last month, I hosted a concert in the park."

She'd finished her Bach. Without really thinking about it, she switched over to Hey Jude.

Well, she wouldn't be the first person to call him 'Luci'. His brother calls him that all the time.

"So a lady of reputation and talent," he says, still leaning on the piano. "Impressive." And he listens to her play attentively enough, nodding along and taking note of particularly impressive sections of the piece. He's taken a shine to a lot of the new modern musical styles, but he still likes the classics. He still remembers when they were new. He'd had plenty of fun with a few composers.

Then she switches to Hey Jude, and he laughs, appreciative. "Range too, I see," he says, before starting to sing along. He's got a decent voice, and the confidence of a performer.

Oh, he was a natural. No question. No McCartney, but then again, there could be only one. Diana smiled and played along, throwing in a few fancy trills to harmonize with his voice, where she saw fit.

She cut things a little short at the na-na-na-nas.

God, that was the thing, back in thee day. If you were stuck dancing with a guy you didn't like to Hey Jude, you were in for a world of hurt. Twenty nine na-na-na-nas. It could feel like an eternity.

When the song faded out, she nodded appreciatively. "One of the most beautiful pieces of music in the last century. And not a bad voice to go with it, dude."

"Why thank you," Lucifer says, with a smug expression that suggests that the compliment was pretty much what he was expecting. He did have a nice voice, of course, along with a nice everything else, thank you for noticing. "Now aren't you glad to decided to give in to your desires? Just think, you could still be there, sitting at the piano and not playing anything properly."

Really, it had been almost sad, seeing her hovering there and not actually playing. Clearly it was a good thing Lucifer was there, to give her a little push.

"Is that what this is about?" she asked, glancing up at him. "You were tempting me. Like the Devil."

He needn't have bothered. If he were the Devil, he'd know that he already owned her.

It was funny. She was Oprah's biggest donor. She went out of her way to respect the sanctity of life. She'd allowed herself to be shot in the face twice, rather than actually harm another living soul.

And she was still damned.

She knew it.

"I told you, I am the Devil," he says, rolling his eyes. "And of course I gave you a little temptation. You were sitting there denying yourself, out of some misplaced and misguided belief that a piano, this piano, shouldn't be played. You needed a little temptation. I helped you get what you want. Really you should be thanking me."

"Merci," she said, with a beautiful accent.

And an impossible-to-ignore air of incredulity. It wasn't exactly Diana's style. It sat on her like an ill-fitting shirt. But she couldn't help it. She simply couldn't believe that he was the Devil.

For so many confusing and uncomfortable reasons.

One of which, of course, was Sam.

Not that she would own to it. She hated even thinking about him, because it left her feeling so alone.

She started to play You Give Love A Bad Name. "Well, if you are the Devil, I like this vessel more than the last one."

"See? That wasn't too hard, was it? And you're welcome," he says, just a little smug. Nice to know that someone appreciates his efforts.

Even if she didn't believe him and kept coming out with the oddest comments.

"And I don't have a vessel. Really, I don't where you humans keep getting this idea that I go around possessing people. Honestly."

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