cityofsin_ooc | 🚕 TEST DRIVE 🍁 September

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!test drive

🚕 TEST DRIVE 🍁 September

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, 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was the word 'mage' that caught Diana's attention. They existed in her little world of darkness, but she had to confess, she knew precious little. "I've never met a mage before," she said. For one hysterical moment, she wondered if it was at all possible that he could be from her world. But...well. A look at the devices strapped all over him quashed that idea. Anyway, Viceroys were usually of a place, and Ravnica meant nothing to her.

Add that to the list.

"Oh. Manners. Right. I'm Diana." She flashed him a peace sign. "Diana Abel. A-B-E-L. As in..." She cut herself off before saying the stupid Caine-and-Abel part. "Well. Diana, anyway. Librarian and street busker."

And to rip off the band-aid, right quick. "And...uh...local Cainite. Um...vampire."

If she was expecting surprise, fear or horror or fascination, none of those things occurred. Ral's smirk didn't falter for an instant, as he tipped his head in her direction.

"Good to meet you. Librarian, huh? Don't suppose it has a particularly interesting 'history' section, now does it?"

That might not be a terrible place to start, either. If there were records to be found, secrets to be delved, maybe that was a lead worth remembering.

And that simple reaction, or lack thereof, moved Ral into a whole new category of 'interesting.' Diana couldn't help but feel grateful too. It could be exhausting when peppered with a million questions. And just out and out depressing when someone ran away in fear.

She smiled one of her pinball machine smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "There's all kinds of history," she said. "But if you're looking for the history of the City itself, again, I'll refer you to my friend, the Doctor. He likes to poke around the City's foundation like some kind of lab rat who hasn't learned its lesson yet about that live wire."

Said with affection, of course.

"There's an aural history too. If you talk to Captain Jack Harkness. Or...a guy named Erik Lehnsherr but, I wouldn't recommend talking to him about anything. Not a people person."

"Well I wouldn't be inviting him out for a drink, now would I?" He doesn't have to be a people-person if small talk isn't the goal. Still. Put him at the bottom of the list for now, a last resort. Higher up on the list: the Doctor, and Captain Harkness.

"This Doctor sounds like my kind of fellow. You have to give it to lab rats, really. Without them, there's so much we still wouldn't understand."

And if he was still alive and kicking, maybe there was something to that live wire that no one had noticed quite yet. Always a possibility.

"Oh, I love him," Diana said. "He's like family to me. Him and Jack. We all used to be room mates, in the old city. The city that this place grew out of. That was called Bete Noire. It's complicated. But they're good guys. Apparently used to have a time machine, if you can believe it." And something about Ral told Diana that he could believe it.

But that was potentially a hasty conclusion.

And come to think of it, Artemis and Selene would both be on Diana's case for revealing just a little too much information to Ral. And way too fast. Her trusting nature would get her killed, they would say. Diana was beginning to think they were right.

Fortunately, they arrived outside of the restaurant just then: Naansense. Diana absolutely loved the name. It was a small, storefront place. With a long line of banquets along the right wall and a counter along the left. A few tables were scattered in the middle, all of them covered with red and gold table clothes that looked glittery under the exposed light coming from dozens of criss-crossing strings of bulbs.

"Here we are," she said brightly.

A little hole in the wall, wasn't it? But he preferred those types of places overall, and his stomach had already given him a stern reminder on the way here that maybe, just maybe, long research sessions without food weren't the bed idea.

"Ahh..." Though something had just occurred to him, expression falling. "I...don't suppose they run on universal currency from. Another universe. Should have thought of that."

Diana waved off the question. "I got you covered," she said.

Artemis and Selene were both scowling in her brain. Well, poo-poo on them. They were there and she was here and God knew she wasn't about to let the newbie starve on his first day. Yes, maybe she took in strays a bit too often. But it was always worth it, in one way or another.

Money couldn't buy that.

She opened the door and gestured him inside. "I guess I'm just the welcome wagon for the night. Although you'll eventually get a gift basket. Kind of."

"Are we talking figurative or literally?"

Because that sort of implies that whoever's sending the baskets is probably wrapped up in this business, if it's an actual basket. Well. Remains to be seen, doesn't it? Food first.

The smell of the place was fantastic, at least, a wave of warm spice hitting his nostrils as soon as they were inside. "You sure you're alright? I mean it's not like you're going to be able to have any with the whole..."

And his teeth clacked faintly together once, in demonstration.

"Subtle," she said with a smirk. And surprisingly blase. But then again, he'd leveled the same accusation against her, not too long ago.

She stepped in behind him and immediately, a host came over to seat them. Diana recognized him from a few of her gigs in the back corner. No one was playing tonight and her fingers itched a little to fill that void. But she had more important things to deal with.

Like the fact that they'd been escorted to the very intimate table, hidden in the back. The 'lovers' table,' they called it. Diana wrinkled her nose a little. Clearly, she was giving off the wrong vibes. But really, there were few reasons for a vampire to come to a restaurant other than some kind of date.

Whatever.

She set her flyers down on the corner of the table, putting her staple gun on top. "No worries. First of all, I don't make a habit of chewing on people. Second, I like this place. And anyway, maybe I can answer some questions for you. God knows I didn't get a halfway decent explanation of this place when I first popped in."

At the very least, they were out of the way enough that the large instruments on his wrists and back weren't available to be stared at. Take your blessings where you can find them, right?

He does move to unclasp them as they sit, at least from around his wrists for ease of movement. It would probably just make eating on the whole a little easier, not to mention being a literal weight off his shoulders. Or arms in general. One calloused hand rubs at his forearm, and it might be clearer now that his left arm has a spiraling dragon tattoo, disappearing up the rolled cuff of his sleeve.

"Well it's not my first hop to another dimension."

"I'm getting that impression," Diana said, watching him disrobe in the least sexy manner possible. She had to admit, the instruments were fascinating. Though bulky, there was a certain grace, an elegance to them.

Again, she couldn't help thinking of Stark.

She settled into her chair, crossing her legs and leaning back. "Okay," she said, "I'm sorry, I'm sure this is totes rude, but I have to ask...what is all of that?"

"This?"

He smiles fondly, patting the brass gauntlets like they were puppies he was particularly proud of. "Like that, huh? Made 'em myself. Part of the whole 'genius' inventor thing I mentioned earlier?"

Seconds later he's leaning forward in his seat. "And it sort of ties into being a storm mage, too. See, calling rain and lightning's great, right up until you're indoors or underground. Doesn't do a whole lot of good then."

One finger lifts. "Unless." And he taps the metal cuff. As it does, a little tendril of electricity seems to travel from the metal to his fingertip, before disappearing.

There were some Thaumaturgs back home who had weather-manipulating abilities. Diana hadn't met one in decades, if not a full century. But at least she could somewhat understand what he was saying. Or, rather, the concept of a 'storm mage' felt self explanatory. And now, so did his doohickeys. Some sort of design to augment his abilities. Made sense. Kind of cool, even. Although...

"Or you could just flick a lighter under a fire alarm and set off the sprinklers," she said lightly, as the server brought them menus.

No, she totally hadn't done that ever in the history of her sordid career as a Big Damn Hero.

Except that she had. A couple times a year, at least.

She smiled at him, gesturing for him to order whatever he wanted. "It looks a little heavy. How do you carry all that around with you?"

A quick glance at the menu, as well as the notices for what was the spiciest, and Ral picks out an intriguing looking vindaloo, the next time the waiter comes by for drinks and orders. Order, singular, in this case. But at least no one's nearby to stare or comment.

"What, this?" He snorts indelicately before lifting an arm and flexing, ever so briefly. He's no Boros Legionnaire, but there's a lot of muscle under those robes. "Just because I'm a mage doesn't make me some delicate bookworm, or some frail, wizened old codger. Now, I am working on streamlining the device some, but these things don't happen overnight. Even for me."

Nothing in this world or any other was funnier than seeing a man flex. Diana couldn't explain it, exactly. But it somehow reminded her of the God-awful 1950s beach movies she used to go to, all dolled up in a poodle skirt, her hair in an elegant side-pony. She wasn't exactly sentimental for the 1950s, what with the racism and sexism and all other kinds of awful -isms. But she did miss the poodle skirts, sometimes.

At any rate, she let out a small, bell-like laugh. Something, she realized, she hadn't done in quite a while.

Of course, what did you expect when there was an ancient evil terrorizing the City?

"Okay, fair," she said. "But it's not all that conducive to dancing."

Luckily, he takes it not for mocking laughter but merely amusement and. Yeah, alright, he'd been playing it slightly more for laughs. So he grins back, dropping back into a relaxed lean on folding arms onto the table.

"Well, that's presumptuous of you. You've never seen me dance," he responds, eyebrows lifting high.

"Everyone dances," she said. "If I know one thing about human beings, it's that. Not a single person can resist a good beat. Not indefinitely."

Cainites could. But Diana had decided that was because they no longer had beating hearts. Music couldn't speak to them the way it did before. Not unless they were like Diana. Not unless they wanted it to.

Maybe needed it to.

"Not saying I don't dance. Just that you've never seen me. I'm pretty nimble with or without the hardware." He shrugs, waving one hand dismissively in the air.

"And parties aren't normally my thing. Too many people peacocking around, trying prove who has the biggest, fluffiest feathers. Me? I like to make an impact on my peers in more meaningful ways than who my parents were, or where my dress came from."

"Too bad," Diana deadpanned. "I had a dress in my closet I thought would be perfect for you."

She wondered if he had nice legs. And then felt deeply ashamed of herself for going that way. But you couldn't blame a girl for daydreaming, every now and then. And certainly, daydreams were the naughtiest Diana was getting, as of late.

"Still," she continued, "good on you. Nothing wrong with that kind of ambition. Assuming you want to prove yourself by making life better for people, not going after them with a chainsaw and a hockey mask. You should know that I'm very anti-hockey. And anti-hockey masks."

"Oh yeah? Nothing with a farthingale, though. I draw the line at impractical architecture."

He chuckles, reaching to link his fingers together and crack his knuckles before settling in again. "Not sure what 'hockey' is but...no. My interest has always been and will always be finding new solutions to old problems. Things that would improve the life of the common folk. Or give them a fighting chance. I'm good either way, honestly."

Diana laughed her little, bell-like laugh. "I would never impose a farthingale on anyone, I assure you. Or a corset." Talk about medieval torture. Diana had been only too hate to ditch those. And from there, it was only a short hop, skip, and jump to bra burning.

That one didn't work out so well for her. She'd give herself a black eye if she ran too fast.

But she leaned in a little as she listened to Ral talk. As she listened and liked what she heard. "What do you consider a 'fighting chance?'"

"Well, not everyone is born with the ability to call lightning. And back where I'm from? If you can't fight, you get ground under the boots of those that can. What my guild does, what the Izzet League is all about, is innovation. Technology and magic that anyone can use. We're not worried about being in charge. We want things to be better, for everyone, from the ground up."

Which was the entire reason he'd signed up. And for a moment, that smarmy facade slips and perhaps there's a glimpse of something slightly more idealistic beneath that shines through. Just for a moment.

Like always spoke to like. And that glimmer of idealism could have easily reeled Diana in. It did make her smile, anyway. As she rested her chin in her palm in a rather unlady-like manner.

This City might eat him alive, if he wasn't careful.

"Is that all you do in your world? Fight or invent things?"

A pause.

"And wear farthingales?"

"Significantly more of the first two, definitely."

Lady-like or not, it didn't seem to matter much to him. He's not much for poise and manners, and the undignified noise of glee that escapes him as the food starts to come out is proof enough of that. "Ohhh yeah. That's the ticket."

The steaming pot of vindaloo is practically nostril-scorching, a vivid red from all the chilies. And of course, a side of hot, freshly-cooked naan and a bowl of fragrant rice topped with a sprig of cilantro is set down alongside it. Ral rubs his hands together with glee, before starting to pile the meal onto his plate.

Little weirdo that she was, Diana took far too much pleasure in watching people eat. But at least she had the good sense enough to know it was creepy to stare. She leaned back, one shoulder against the wall, absently tracing the stucco, careful to keep her eyes politely averted, as much as possible.

"Limited options," she remarked.

Obviously it was an exaggeration. It had to be. But she had no way of knowing just how much.

"I was a musician, before I was a librarian. In the city that was before. More of a lover, than a fighter." Of course, she could kick ass. And quite effectively. She just didn't like it.

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