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!

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"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.

"An artist, huh?"

He studies for a moment at that, as if weighing something in his mind before dismissing it entirely, and opting to take a large bite out of his plate full of food. Immediately after he lets out an obscene hum, mouth curling upward as he sinks back against his chair with a 'clank', the tank strapped to his back connecting with the wood.

"Mmmph."

Diana bit her lips together, to keep from laughing. It was close to obscene indeed. A sex noise, if she ever heard one.

Of course, she was out of practice.

"Something like that," she said, politely deciding not to make commentary. "Still can catch my act at the corner of Downey and Keating, if you ever feel the need for some super groovy tunes."

"When you're not librarian-ing it up?"

The answer is a vague one, but he has his reasons. Artists. There's little danger of a repeat of events here, but it's a reminder he wants to avoid all the same. Gotta keep his head in the game. Too much to do, too much data to unpack.

Krokt, but this stuff is good though. A shame she can't try some herself.

She nodded slightly. "Profits all go to the homeless shelter, of course." Not that she made a ton of money while busking. But it wasn't complete insubstantial. And there wasn't a better use she could think of. Her librarian gig paid rent and for blood. And Jack seemed to be determined to buy her all the boots she could ever want. So she was good there.

"Mostly classics. The Beatles."

Wait a second...

Diana sat up ramrod straight. "I'll bet you don't have the Beatles in your world. Oh, dude. You're in for the greatest thing ever."

He blinks, mid-chew, pausing for a moment before swallowing and thumping his chest lightly. "Ah, no. We definitely have beetles. And they're...okay? As bugs go. Is this a thing where you're from? Are insects really popular there?"

Both eyebrows arch. "They're not sacred or anything, are they?" He might have just put his entire foot into his mouth without realizing it. Well that's just spectacular.

"Oh, God, no, no. Not beetles. The Beatles. They're a band." The fun of the multiverse. And the unfortunate pun of the Beatles' name. "And while I can't really say they're sacred, they are kind of rock gods. And woe betide anyone who besmirches their name in front of me because they're perfect. Were perfect. Their music will live forever."

Diana was not a violent creature, by nature. But she had once or twice been very tempted to slap someone who said their body of work was over-rated.

It so was not.

And up until recently, not meeting John Lennon had been the greatest regret of Diana's American life.

"I'll play some for you, sometime."

"Ahh."

His hands lift in apology, lips quirking upwards at the corners.

"Understood. I know better than to get between people and their gods. Rock, stone, or otherwise."

"No...no. Uh, 'rock' is a type of music. They're not actual gods. Just really, really good musicians."

This was one of the many costs of Diana's love of slang, she supposed. Older Cainites usually couldn't figure out what the hell she was saying most days. While younger mortals were just baffled. Throw in the multiverse and...

But he was smiling so...

She shook her head. "The Beatles are very, very talented musicians from my world. That's all."

"You say that. I feel like some artists can command the prestige and adoration of gods, when they're popular enough." Here again he looks a little wry before tugging a grin back into place, and taking another heaping bite of that extra-spicy curry.

Mmm. Good enough to make your eyes water.

"I hope not," Diana said, tilting her head to one side, her hair sliding off of her shoulder. "Innovation, ingenuity, genius, they all come from mortality. If a musician were a god, they'd lose the talent that makes them special."

But, Diana had a bias. She believed the best in human beings. And generally, the worst in vampires.

Every Cainite's self-loathing manifested in different ways. Her was just a little...paradoxical.

"I suppose things become a little less dire when you have all the time in the world. Being efficient and making things easier only really matters when you're on the clock and can only achieve so much in one lifetime."

He snorts, nose wrinkling. "That explains a lot about the Syndicate, actually. Bunch of immortals and undead clinging to old artifice and 'tradition'. Why wouldn't they?"

"I think I know a thing or two about the undead clinging to old artifice," Diana said, just a little hint of dryness creeping into her voice. It had only been the bane of her existence for the last two centuries or so.

More than, she supposed. Her Embrace had been so carefully engineered.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Tell me about the Syndicate. Sounds painfully familiar, but I don't want to make any assumptions."

"The Orzhov Syndicate. Where to even begin."

He huffs, leaning forward onto his elbows, arms folding in front of him. "They started out as the pillar of faith for Ravnica...and I suppose in a way they still are. There's no religion like money, and Orzhov is church and bank all in one. Nothing matters to them as much as wealth and power, and keeping that wealth and power appropriately distributed. According to them, of course. Those golden cathedrals and marble floors don't pay for themselves.

"You want a slice? You go through them. And no one knows contracts and deals better than the Orzhov. You owe them a cent? Even death isn't going to stop them from collecting. Most of the oldest and most powerful members of the guild are undead themselves, and they've got no qualms about shackling your spirit to the mortal plane until your debt is paid."

An eyebrow lifts. "Bloodsuckers in every regard. I get the feeling that's not really your style, though. You're a little too liberal for their tastes."

Diana laughed. "I'm a little too liberal for everyone's tastes, if we're being realistic." Definitely for the Camarilla. And pretty much any organized religion she'd ever explored, including Noddism.

And as for politics...

Yeah...

"Honestly, though, it sounds a little bit like a group from my corner of the multiverse," she said. "They're called 'the Giovanni.' And they totes get their kicks on indenturing your soul. It's a whole...thing."

Ral shrugs as she laughs. "Eh. You seem alright to me." Of course he doesn't know her terribly well, but unless there's something intensely sinister about her beneath the surface? She's fine for knowing.

Anything more than that? Well. Lessons have been learned over the years, and he's not forgetting any of them in a hurry. People can and will disappoint, you just don't give them the opportunity to get their claws in too deep. Easy, right?

"But yeah. They love having their hierarchy and their rules. 'Wealth is power, structure breeds wealth, and guilt creates structure.' I'm...less than a fan, let's say."

She wrinkled her nose. Okay, so they were some strange hybrid of extremely capitalist Ventrue and the Giovanni. Didn't matter what label you slapped on that nonsense. It was still...nonsense. And super gross.

Diana suddenly felt like she needed to take a shower, just listening to it.

"Yeah," she said, "I can't really blame you for not digging that philosophy. But if it means anything to you, I don't think we have anything like that here in the City. I mean, don't get me wrong, there's corruption to fight. But not on that scale."

"Nah. Who you're born to and how much money you have is a terrible way to assess someone's value, the way I see it. Get a bunch of self-important so-and-sos who care more about preserving some bloodline or name, maintaining their own power, and less about the people they're supposedly working on behalf of."

His tongue runs over his teeth, as he leans back again, another 'clunk' noise against the chair back where the metal connects.

"Me? I was born to nobodies in the slums. Where I'm at today? That's all me. Being smarter, risking more and fighting harder than the other guy. That's how you determine worth."

"I can't help but wonder what you'd make of the country I've been living in the last two hundred years," she said. "It's...it's an interesting contradiction. Claims to be a meritocracy, but it's riddled with racism, sexism, Antisemitism, and a whole bunch of other miserable -isms. But at the same time...creativity, innovation, activism..."

Really, the best way to sum up the United States, in her opinion, was visiting Las Vegas. On the one hand, you had greed and excess and a thoroughly seedy underbelly. On the other hand, they'd brought water to the desert. There was artistry and culture and liberal attitudes about so many things.

But she was an optimist.

"This place," she said gesturing around the room, toward the City at large, "it's like an echo of home. Except more of the bad things and less of the good. But I'm...working on it. You should totes sign up for one of my night school classes at the library. You can learn about my world there."

"I mean, that's all you can do, right? Try to make things better. My guild...it's not just about making stuff like this." With a free hand he reaches out, patting his gauntlets where they rest on the table, between the rice and the bowl of remaining vindaloo.

"It's about maintaining the city works, building and improving things for everyone. No matter who you are. So if this city's got problems?"

Ral grins again, cracking his knuckles with a spark of static.

"I've got nothing but time."

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diana_abel - 2019-09-18 17:32 (UTC) - Expand

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