🚕 TEST DRIVE 🍁 September

[sinfulmods]

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.

cityofsin | cityofsin_logs | cityofsin_ooc
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, and tag around!
→ If you're still tagging in the last TDM, you may continue to do so, or feel free to move your threads here. We have four test drives a year. New test drives are now posted sometime during the months of: March, June, September, December.
→ Threads in the test drive are NOT eligible to use for activity checks, however you can make them game canon if you wish — and only if both players are accepted in the game.
→ Prospective players are always welcome to contact the mod for any questions or clarifications regarding the game.

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!

Comments

Ral Zarek | Magic: the Gathering

[izzetthough]

01. A New Arrival:

Transporting to a new plane of existence is not entirely new. It hasn't been since that spark inside of him found its catalyst, a night he tried very hard not to remember most days, and had transported him so very far from his home. It's that same sensation that sucks him through now, popping him out somewhere unfamiliar, and for a moment he just stands there in the middle of the street, eyes darting back and forth as he takes in what just happened.

"...huh."

Standing of the middle of the sidewalk, to the standard observer, is a young man. Tall, slender, with dark hair streaked with white and vibrant robes of red and blue fabric belted about his person. Much more noticeably there's also a large brass-colored gauntlet on one arm, thick and heavy-looking, with wires feeding back to a canister-like device attached to his back. Sparks appear to be traveling back and forth through those wires, providing an electric-blue glow to both.

And for a moment, he appears to narrow his eyes, concentrate very fixedly on something...only for nothing to occur. Both eyebrows lift. "Ohhhhhh, that's not good," he murmurs, more to himself than anyone present and between clenched teeth, before taking another strained look around him with a turn on his heel.

[ombranera]

This is, of course, a great deal more pleasant than the last time he'd slipped from one reality to another- it is not so quick and strange as the Fade, not so obviously rife with demons. Aside from the dull ache of the shard in his palm, he could very well imagine that this was simply another shade of home. Zevran has made his way with care since his own arrival not long ago, hood up to obscure the tips of his pointed ears, the curling tattoos on his face marking him as (formerly) of the Crows.

Not that anyone here seems to know of them, which is surprising enough. Not that he's seen many other elves which is-

Odd, but not entirely unlikely. Alienages are a thing, after all, perhaps he simply has not found one here just yet.

Likewise he hasn't seen anyone that seems quite as other as he, robed and armored, everyone else wearing lighter, simpler clothing that does little to protect. At least until he comes upon a very fine fellow positively radiating magic that gives him pause. "And that isn't ominous."

Murmured from the shadows, Zevran slips out, hood up, eyes gleaming, smile wide, posture open. Harmless for all that he has the poise of a dancer, an assassin about him. "What has someone so lovely looking so preteurbed?"

[izzetthough]

Quick eyes dart towards the movement in shadow, a split-second after the voice calls out. Just like that, it could have easily been a dagger. Needed to watch that. A lifetime of dealing with the Dimir and their ilk, he ought to know better than to stand so close to a shadowy alleyway.

And this fellow...well. All smiles now, but in much the same way as one of those slippery rogues. A smile that could just as easily come with a knife in the back. Quickly he recalls that travel between worlds isn't that well-known a concept. Wouldn't do to out himself so quickly.

Divert. Quickly.

"Ah. Must have taken a wrong turn. You know how it is. Cities like this. Where we're all from." Both brows quirk upwards. "And what about you? You stand in shadowy alleys and compliment every devilishly handsome stranger that passes by, or am I just special?"

[ombranera]

"Mm, yes, with their many winding pathways and wily unmarked roads. It is quite easy to find yourself turned about, especially if one is preoccupied." Which, now, the man seems ever so slightly. Preoccupied and aware, though the second isn't quite so surprising considering Zevran knowing full well the image he presents. Slim, petite, dangerous and poised like a well-balanced stiletto. But there's no need for sharpness here.

Yet.

"Who, me?" All rounded eyes and innocence. "I compliment the worthy, of which there might be quite a few, but the worthy and interesting? Those are rare."

Needless to say, he finds this one perfectly interesting. "Though I must admit I do not know what I should find more alluring. Your face, or the marvelous contraption on your back."

[izzetthough]

That can mean anything. From 'I'm making small talk and have plans to have you naked later' to 'that looks expensive and I'm going to loot it off your corpse if you let your guard down'. Even knowing that, Ral's ego rises to the occasion as ever, and he grins before tapping the gauntlet on his arm.

"You like it? Built it myself. Well. This is probably the seventh or eighth variant of it. The last one had some issues with residual static leaking out of the device. You ever feel your teeth itch?"

His nose wrinkles.

"I wouldn't recommend it."

[diana_abel]

Sometimes, especially in times like this, Diana needed actual, external motivation to even walk out of her front door at sunset. For better or for worse, that motivation was usually external. And for decidedly worse, that motivation was the pain of others, right now. In the wake of everything the City had been through, the usual problems of homelessness, injury, and crime had been dialed up to an eleven. And although Diana constantly claimed that she was completely retired from the Big Damn Hero business...

...she wasn't. Not really.

And so that night found her walking down the sidewalk in her second-best go-go boots, carrying an armload of leaflets and a staple gun. She'd started organizing a food and clothing drive almost before the dust had settled on...whatever had come out of the waters. Now, you could barely go a block without seeing one of her flyers.

It was a little hard to give, admittedly, when you had nothing yourself. Which was a problem for a good chunk of the City. So Diana was sticking mostly to bars and Leisurebrook. Anywhere disposable income was sure to be...disposed.

She paused in the middle of tacking a flyer up against a community board, though, when she spotted the stranger. First impression: Handsome. Second impression: Probably new. He had that 'fresh off the multiverse' look to him. A look she'd seen far too many times over the last...however many years.

"Uh, hi?" she said, lowering the staple gun so she wouldn't look menacing.

[izzetthough]

Not that she could look all that menacing at a glance, clearing doing...whatever it was she was doing. Which wasn't property damage or physical harm to anyone, so yeah. Threat level: decidedly neutral.

In turn, he lifts his own hands. Probably not to the same effect, given that he's got two large devices strapped to his wrists, and something bigger and more menacing attached just behind. He hasn't been using these to post up posters anywhere, that's for damn sure.

"Hey." He squints, nose wrinkling as he glances around them. Surprisingly empty, this street. No real crowd to blend into, if that was even a possibility. Alas, blending in had never exactly been his forte. "Right, so...this isn't what it looks like."

[diana_abel]

"It looks like you just arrived in the middle of a city you don't recognize by means you can't quite figure out."

She didn't mean to make fun. And she definitely wasn't having a laugh at his expense. But after days of disaster and ruin, a quip was both thoroughly unexpected, and strangely welcome. Life went on, after destruction. It had to.

Diana smiled gently, taking a few steps closer to him, but not enough to alarm him (and hopefully enough to dodge, if he was going to be problematic). "I could be wrong. God knows I usually am. But." She shrugged, her hair slipping back over her shoulder. "I mean, we've all been exactly where you are right now, so..."

Curiously, she took a quick glance at his aura.

[izzetthough]

"Aha."

His hands drop, haltingly. "Then, I suppose it's exactly what it looks like. Does this happen a lot? You seem awfully blasé about the whole planeswalking thing as a concept."

Already his mind was a whirl, processing what see was saying. Their surroundings. Aha. Now it was all starting to come together. A missing piece to the puzzle that until five minutes ago he hadn't known needed solving.

[knightcommander]

This place is quite unlike any place Cullen has ever visited or imagined. Sharp spires of glass and metal, not unlike some nightmare from the Fade, a forest of them and between them dark alleys of filth where shadows move and twist like demons. He will not be surprised when someone confirms that is the case, although it seems there are a number of fundamental differences between the demons he knows and has fought before, and the shadowy twisting creatures here.

Unfortunately, he's yet to be told of the dangers of the demons, yet that does not stop them from attacking. The clap of hooves on the sidewalk is loud, echoing around the concrete buildings as the huge bull-like creature charges around a corner, and skids to a hault. Fire trails behind it, pouring from its mouth and nostrils and empty eye-sockets, bellowing angrily as it tosses its head from side to side. Staying just out of reach of its horns is a man, armed with a sword and shield, tries to fend it off.

The man glances around, briefly, as the horns of the bull clatter against the shield, and spots the man with what looks like lightning or lyrium glowing around. "Mage!" He shouts, to get the man's attention. "Some assistance?"

[izzetthough]

While he doesn't appreciate being ordered around very much at all, the reason becomes clear as something that looks like it sprang out of a Rakdos carnival comes tearing down the street, leaving a streak of fire in its wake. "Not even a please? Manners cost nothing, honestly," he chuffs, before narrowing his eyes at the demon.

A second later and the device on his back hums, and one hand casts forward, channeling the current out of his gauntlet and through his fingertips. It's always a rush, feeling the heart of the storm burning through him, and the strike is a precise one, zapping the demon's hindquarters and earning another bellow as it whips around to face Ral.

Who grins, sparks dancing behind his teeth, and lifts a hand to wiggle his fingers. "Hi there."

Here's the man's distraction, if he wants it.

[knightcommander]

Cullen doesn't bother to reply, although perhaps it's because at that point there's no time. There's no time for fussing with courtly manners- he hadn't been rude, simply done what he was used to doing: giving an instruction. He's grateful for the swift action, even if the spell isn't what he's expecting. Of course, you can't always know what to expect from a mage, especially one unknown to you. But the man hadn't decided that Cullen would make a better target, despite the sigil on his shield. Perhaps it wasn't noticed, perhaps it is simply that the man is from somewhere in Thedas where the Inquisition is not as well known.

But no time to wonder about that. The distraction is all he needs, to shift the grip on the hilt of the sword. The Bull is massive, larger than the Druffalo of Thedas, but Cullen has no choice. The beast is angry, more so now that before, but its energies are also targetted on someone else, who may well be harmed. The blade sinks into its shoulder, deep and thick black blood oozes free.

The bellow the creature produces sends a white-hot tail of flame from the creature's mouth as it thrashes, pawing at the ground until the tarmac of the road begins to bubble. With a grunt, Cullen pulls the sword free and plunges it in again, as deep as he can.

[izzetthough]

Whoever this guy is, he's obviously got skill with a blade. Crude, but it gets the job done, and the demon certainly doesn't seem to like what he's doing with it. You could almost feel some kind of pity for it as that bubbling hot ichor spills free of its hide, and it twists and tries to shake Cullen loose before kicking back solidly with both hind legs.

"Watch it!"

Magnus Macaire, Esquire. Werewolf. (An OC)

[macaire]

Carpe diem- arrival

Magnus blinks. A few moments ago he was in his little antique shop, New York, and upon turning around to see to something, finds himself in a strange, badly furnished room. Not his shop, not the apartment above. This is not home. He knows immediately. The place doesn't smell like any part of New York he knows, nor London, nor Paris. If smells infinitely worse, despite the fact it looks a little like home at first glance. But it isn't.

Some people would panic. Some people would try and pinch themselves to wake up. Some people would break down in fear.

Some people are not nearly two and a half centuries old. Magnus simply inspects the room, looking over what poor decorating choices have been made, and then finds his way out, out of the apartment block itself, and down into the streets. An unfamiliar street in a completely unfamiliar city. He won't learn anything stood here, that's for sure.

Carpe noctem- carnival

There are times when being human-shaped is extremely advantageous. There are times when the wolf gets more answers.

The carnival seems to a good place to try and find more information. People are normally more relaxed, people talk more freely. And who is to notice a dog, another dog, hanging around waiting for scraps? The fact of the matter is that this dog isn't begging, and is a lot larger than the other strays sniffing for dropped hot dogs. Grey at the muzzle, it moves without any attempt to hide, behind a group, tail up as if it's a pet out enjoying the company of its people.

The group of humans are talking excitedly, although not happily, about demons. A strange topic for a carnival, although perhaps the season accounts for it- All Hallows Eve may be as popular here as in the States. But there seems to be something else- attacks? Sea monsters?

Now that is interesting.


Carpe vinum- the party

In truth, this is no different from any party that Magnus has ever attended. Perhaps there is a little more confusion regarding the nature of this place, of who is in control, of why they are here, but that is by-the-by. There are clear groups here: the movers and the moved. Those who ooze confidence and those who wish that they did. He remembers the same thing in Paris in the days before the streets ran red, he remembers similar division within the ballrooms of Victorian England. The same thing occurred in the fancy restaurants of New York, where the rise and fall of nations were planned over dessert.

This City is nothing new. And while he discovers more about it, he has no problem with sitting back in one of these poorly padded chairs and watching the crowd move. Yes, some may think he looks strange, his clothing old fashioned, his mannerism aloof, but Magnus cares little for the snap judgements others will make of him.

carpe vinum

[izzetthough]

The movers and the moved. Where did he belong on that scale? One wondered.

He'd certainly been moved here, but he refused to accept that as his sole lot in life. Seize destiny with both hands and shake it until it coughed up what you wanted. Or something to that effect. And while he'd been here some time now, it was still all just a matter of research and observation. Gathering data. Trying to see something someone else might have missed, a piece of the puzzle that would get them all home.

Surveillance was really more of a Dimir thing, but since they were supposed to be here anyway, no harm in showing up with a drink and taking stock of everyone. And that's what he's doing now. Slowly meandering along, occasionally taking a swig of something strong and letting his gaze roam.

Eventually it lands on the man sitting quietly and observing the room in much the same fashion, if a bit more stationary. For a moment, eyes lock. Ral's eyebrow arches for a moment, as he debates making more of the exchange or letting it slip away.

[macaire]

Magnus is a watcher by nature. Most people are not, they want to be watched, heard, acknowledged. The fact that there is someone else watching, observing, is interesting in and of itself. A young mab, without the practised ease of some long-term political player and with the gall to catch the eye of someone else.

Still, the raises his glass of brandy in salute, an unspoken offer for the young man to approach should he so wish.

Magnus will admit his interest is piqued. He can't help that fact, and perhaps something useful will come out if tonight after all.

[izzetthough]

That isn't to say that Ral doesn't want to be watched, heard, and acknowledged. Validation was something he'd sought for a long time, from people who never seemed to want to give it freely. But having to work towards something gave life meaning, right?

Anyway. Looked like the guy was up for company and, with a quick smirk pulling into place, Ral saunters over to slouch into a seat across from the man.

"Don't you look like you're having a ball."

[macaire]

Magnus normally would invite his new found friend to take a seat but the man seems to gave taken the initiative. That is the modern way of things. Of course the garb he wears doesn't put Magnus in mind of the modern era, or any era for that matter, but it seems far more Eastern than Western, and of that he has little experience outside of porcelain.

"After one has attended one party, the rest rather fall into the same pattern." He says, with the merest hint of an accent. "And this is particularly dull, aside from the choice of location."

In a City not on any map, without a name, run by a coalition of mysterious magistrates. How very apocalyptic.

"Sir Magnus Macaire."

Lexi Verne, Worst Witch (An OC)

[pretty_things]

How not to exorcise a demon

"Wait a moment!" Lexi says, mostly unfazed as the shifting shadow seeps out from the brick walls of the bar. While he's not sure exactly where he is, a bar is always a good place to go and meet people, to find information on who is who.

Of course, most bars he knows don't suffer with demons bleeding out of the walls, but he's heard of it happening. Well, he thinks he's heard of it. Maybe it was a film.

Either way, he's pulling his purse from his shoulder, opening it up and going through its contents. Other patrons are beginning to back away, heading for the door, but the blonde is removing things from his bag like he's looking for a tissue. "I had a hexbag in here- no-no that's dog treats." He murmurs.

"Lipstick. Candy. Oh bobby pins, I've been looking for those! Wait, I swear-" He continues, as the demon begins to form itself into something vaguely humanoid. Then the boy finds what he's looking for, and draws it out with a happy noise of triumph, before tossing it at the demon.

Who absorbs it without any sign of pain or distress.

The triumph melts off the boy's face. "That... should have worked."

Double Bubble Boil and Trouble

It's dark. Dark and somewhere, he's taken a wrong turn. He thinks. He's not sure, but suddenly there's some very tall, very broad people in front of him, and they're looking at the vial of Dragon's Blood powder hanging around his neck like it's something more than increase.

"Do as we say and don't make any noise," One growls as he grabs Lexi, tight enough to hurt.

"Give it over," The other says, drawing a gun and Lexi yelps in fear, almost jumping back into the first thug.

"Sorry!" He says, before clapping his hands over his mouth, and then pulling back again, "Oh shit you said not to- Fuck."

Insta-Addict

So this is like one of those old school message boards? From like ages ago? How do I get onto snapchat?

Harry Dresden CRAU | Dresden Files books | OTA

[iminthebook]

A New Arrival

After arriving in a new apartment and finding himself without enough information, he had spent some time reading the network, and checking out what he could learn that way. It had been revealing, and he was quite ready to curse his luck. Here he was again in a weird place and a weird set of rules, with no idea why, really.

How many worlds was this? At least he was in his right body now. Lumbering down the sidewalk, all 6'9" of him, he had his long coat on, his blasting rod and staff concealed inside as always. And he was very glad he had fallen asleep in the hospital cluthing his bundle of items. Otherwise, this would be awkward.

Still and all, he was glancing around and looking as confused as a new person might be.

***

02. Demonic Presences

And then there were demons. Harry had just been trying to check out the options in a communications store, where some of the different items were very cool, when three demons had chased a woman and her child into the store. He had been peering at the large tablet-like device in his hands when they came in and he swore as he dropped it into the hands of the storekeeper. "Hide."

Harry didn't so much react as explode into action, his coat billowing outward as his hands came up, blasting rod in one hand, staff in the other. words fell from his lips as he dashed forward, sliding into the space between demons and innocents, eyes blazing.

Cold flowed from him sudden-like, and as he spoke aloud, ice daggers leaped from his staff and slammed into the first-most oncoming threat.

Still, there were others. A little help would probably come in handy.

***

03. Party Hard: Harry was getting too used to hobnobbing with weird people and societies, and so he was dressed up. Which for him, meant his coat was pressed, and he wore a white mantle, one streaked with black and with stars on the shoulders. Under that, however, he was wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt that denounced 'The Man'. He had been invited to this suddenly announced party, and had come against his better judgment.

As he wandered, he kept his eyes open for those who looked both better and worse than the rest. He was wary, and confused, and waiting for the shoe to drop. Still, there was free ale and free fries, and he was indulging in some of each as he wandered.

***

07. Network:

[ Video ]

[ The video popped on and showed a man leaning on a staff that is wrapped in steel bands and carved with runes along its entire length. He stared at the camera and hmms, before speaking. ]

Hello, City. Is anyone able to recommend a good record store? And a good herb shop? This place is about as comfortable to find my way around as a minefield.

[ He offered a half-smile as he nodded. He was wary of this, and glad it was, so far, behaving with his powers. If it didn't that would be... unfortunate. ]

Also, why are there so many demons running around here? It seems like the kind of thing one would want to stop.

[ He waved a hand, then. ]

Still, seems like a peaceful place, otherwise. So what weird shit happens in this world? What's the catch of this damn place?

Anthony J Crowley | Good Omens (bookverse)

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

i. a new arrival

[You know what's worse than suddenly being jolted from one place to another with no knowledge of how you got there? Immediately being shoulder-checked by not one but two people within the space of three minutes while you're still trying to get your bearings.

Crowley sleeps fairly often, and well, but doesn't tend to dream... at least not this vividly. He pinches himself (he's heard that's what the humans do), and he steps back out of the way of the crowds to press himself against a wall and peer up at his surroundings through a pair of dark sunglasses.]

... Hmn. [Says Crowley, and he pinches himself again.

It doesn't work. He presses his lips together and pushes his hands into his pockets, drawing sidelong glances from people who hurry their steps to pass him by as he speaks to no one in particular.]

... Alright, come on, this isn't funny.

ii. demonic presences

[He was in a bar, just leaving in fact, when the streetlights around him go dark and he pulls his sunglasses down just slightly to sweep yellow-gold, snake-like eyes from one end of the street to the other.

Not too much of a bother, for someone who can see in the dark. He sees them coming before they see him.

Inky, undulating, shadowy shapes. Good sense tells him that he should head back inside and shut the door before they reach him, but a solid thud tells him a moment later that the patrons inside the bar have already jammed a bar stool over the door handles and he isn't getting in that way without causing a few injuries in the process.]

Ngk. [He mutters. He twitches the sleeves of his shirt so the red fabric shows in contract to the black of his jacket.] ... S'pose I should be running then.

[And in the next moment, he's doing just that, uttering a loud expletive as he does so.]

ii

[uptogood]

[ Sometimes you just need a miracle.

Problem being that Aziraphale isn't quite sure what sort of miracle would solve this ... well, problem. There are bad things coming down the street, a man running (somehow familiar, but he can't quite place it), and the first thing that comes to mind is light because it's going dark and it shouldn't be going dark.

He snaps his fingers, and the street is lit up by a blinding orb hovering several floors above his head.

Beyond 'help', he doesn't have much of a plan, but he waves the man down anyway. Indoors? Maybe? He thinks he saw a few people rush inside as soon as the street lights started going out. Surely that shouldn't be impossible to achieve, especially not with a miracle or two.

Or, maybe, some ethereal light might just be enough to at least buy them some time. ]

[saunteredvaguelydownwards]

Je--immeny Christmas. [Crowley blurts out when the space ahead of him is suddenly lit with a near-blinding light (familiar, somehow, but he can't quite place it). He stumbles mid-step, almost trips, but manages to avoid that entirely ungraceful eventuality and instead makes a sharp diversion towards the person waving him down.

Someone who, much like the light, is familiar somehow.

Oh, he hates running. He hates running, and he's glad enough to stop running and to turn around just enough to see the shadowy things following him shrinking away from the light while he takes a few more steps backwards.]

Handy trick, that. [He comments, breathing heavily despite not needing to at all.] But I don't think it'll keep them back for long. Got another idea?

[uptogood]

Uhhh ... Not yet.

[ There's a smaller street right beside them, but that's definitely a no-no. So. Indoors.

He shuffles along the wall, glancing up at the sign of what looks like a corner shop. Wonder if it was open that late? Maybe it closed a while ago, meaning it's probably empty, and the lock should be easy enough to deal with. Might be dark in there, though. Might be bad. Is it safe when those shapes know they're here? ]

Blazes.

[ Barely a mutter under his breath, as he wills the door to unlock. Maybe he should just ... bring out the wings. Would that help? It's been so long since he's used them. ]

Loki Odinson | Thor: Tales of Asgard

[lokiyouarenothelping]

[ARRIVAL/NETWORK/something/?SO MAYBE WILDCARD? mix of those few]

[VOICE MESSAGE. PUBLIC. Adoloscent boy, by the way.]

This isn't Asgard, nor Jotunheim, I've gathered that much.

However, I do suppose someone here must've heard of the bridge, you know, people, the one between all the Realms. Anyone? I haven't crossed it to come here, I know that much.

Unless worse things happened to me without my knowledge than I care to learn right now.

Anyway. Bifrost. Bridge. Anyone? If somebody could just point me in the right direction, you'd have my gratitude, and you'd have me out of your hair. I mean, what's better than both of that?