brethrencourt | TEST DRIVE 001b

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mod post: test drive

TEST DRIVE 001b

Try on those ridiculous clothes, sample the catering, and run through your lines. It's time for the Long 18th Test Drive.

ARRIVAL: Characters come to in a dark, tropical forest in a huddle. There are the sounds of strange birds, animals, and insects all around, some of them perhaps worryingly close. With a closer inspection, arrivals realize they're on an incline: Going up will prove fruitless, no matter who they are. The ground there starts to grow rocky the further they climb, and they may find themselves slipping back down to their arrival point, even if they're expert mountain climbers. The ground sloping downward will eventually level out leading toward light, music, and noise. But for the moment, they're simply a group of lost people (or monsters/bipedal animals/robots/etc) with no idea where they are or how they got here. Now's probably a good time to ask, "Who the hell are you? Where am I?" Time to use the buddy system.

TORTUGA: There's a town off the coast of Hispaniola that never sleeps, and that town is Tortuga. It's swapped hands more times than anyone can count, but for now, the French have it. And they do like the extra money the pirates that frequent it bring in; they like it so much that they imported over 1600 prostitutes from Europe to keep them happy. So you might as well relax while you're here, as much as you can with random gunshots and fist fights, anyway. Drop in for a drink at the Faithful Bride, check out the wares for sale (provided to you tax-free thanks to piracy) near the dock front. Visit the warehouse where those ill-gotten goods are stored and distributed. Maybe you're looking for work on a ship? The captains can usually be found - frazzled and busy - in the taverns and at the shipwrights and everywhere in between (just look for the hats), and if they're in a good mood, they might be willing. But the key point of Tortuga is this: Have fun. Some examples might include: A barfight! Wandering into a brothel (maybe by mistake)! Getting duped into joining a crew! There's no end of trouble to get into.

MIRROR POST: When they arrived, every person found, in a pocket or a bag or tucked away somewhere on their person, a little compact mirror. It's nothing fancy: Square, with hinges and a latch that keep it closed, the outer casing carved from seashell, the inner mirror a little spotted with age. But if it's played around with enough, it quickly becomes apparent it works as a communication device. Here you have access to all of the marked folks, no matter how far and wide they might spread. Need to have a heart to heart with a buddy in Singapore? Want to send out a general ad to everyone at large? Looking for answers to questions? This is the quickest way to get all of that.

CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE: The world is open, and it's full of pearls that are just waiting for you to take them. Maybe you want to have some quiet time to scrub clean in a bathhouse in Singapore. Perhaps you're visiting the fabled pirate city of Libertalia in Madagascar. Maybe you've found yourself lost in Mayan ruins or stranded on an island. Or you were shipwrecked in a hurricane. Or you've decided to relocate to Port Royal or one of the American colonies for a quieter sort of life. Either way, this is your story, might as well make it a good one.

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[#howdare #howDARE

Do you see this, Rafe? This is Tony folding his arms with a not-so-very-well-concealed eye roll. In fact, it's not so concealed at all; it's exaggerated enough Tony's sure he's just seen his brain. Is that even possible? Who knows, but he'll swear to it.]

Yeah, okay, Rhinestone Cowboy, that's fine. But going on the assumption that every person here is good at just one thing? Not the best way to make friends. My history can use a little dusting off, sure. I'll get right on that. But if you're gonna go with me being just a lab rat? You're only half right.

[Shrug. Can a shrug be annoying? Because this shrug absolutely is.]

Besides, you're in a town full of pirates. If I wanna know anything about them, it's called going to the bar. Don't exactly need to be an expert to do that, but I'm sure it helps.

[On the one hand, at least someone's got a sense of humor, but Hancock keeps his eyes on the guy until he skitters on down the street before bothering to acknowledge it. He rarely thinks "fucking smoothskins" but he has the feeling this place might actually just change that, if that's the kind of reaction he can expect. Maybe he's been right this whole time: Maybe shutting himself in Goodneighbor has made him soft and complacent. And that's never a good thing.]

Depends. Do you need it? [He has lines he draws, after all. They're wobbly, and can bend if he needs them to, but they're still lines. A for effort and all that.

But there's nothing in this own tone that implies he's remotely serious, either.]

You don't look like you're from around here, but you damn sure don't look like your from the Commonwealth, either. You just randomly show up in some pre-war wonderland, too?

[Oh, Rafe sees it. Rafe sees his eye roll, and his shrug, and the fact he might just blow a gasket isn't so concealed either. He turns his head with a can-you-believe-this-guy look at a nonexistent camera, before he slowly flattened his hands together and turned them to point at Tony.]

You're right. You're not a one trick pony, and I'm not exactly... Indiana Jones here. But I'm pretty sure I'm a little more capable than some pirate here just getting drunk off their ass. You tell them you're from the future, that you're looking for some... sign from some alien whatever what have you, and they're probably gonna throw you into the mud pit.

[He's calm, he's fine. Here, have some effort as a smile that doesn't convey the desire to murder.]

Assuming we're both relatively good at what we do with redeeming qualities on the side, the pros outweigh the cons here. I don't know about you, but I'd rather keep company of someone who understands a reference.

[Kubo stares at the mirror a moment, flatly.

The image shakes a tad as Kubo sets it down for a better view, pulls out his shamisen, and strums once. The sail draws itself up the mast, ropes lashing it up neat and tidy, all on their own. The ship pulls slightly to port, completely devoid of the groaning of wood.

His ship is literally made of leaves, controlled by his music.

NGL, Kubo looks a little smug]

I think you might need to open your mind a little.

[She smiles, glad that some sort of ice has been broken with that tease. One can never be too careful when dealing with people that are more than likely stronger than you.]

Not quite yet. I'll let you know once I've figured this place out.

[But then with his next question, some of that humor fades from her features. Time to be more serious, she supposes. Christine has no idea how to make any sense of where she thinks she actually came from. Was it all an elaborate dream? It's all a bit insane.]

If I told you where I'm from, I doubt you'd believe me. I barely believe me at this point. Not sure I'd call this place a wonderland but plants that aren't trying to bite my head off are a nice change. [She catches herself starting to ramble on without actually answering the question. Unfortunately, just because she catches herself it doesn't mean much. Christine just keeps talking. Despite her cool and collected exterior...she's nervous.]

I have no idea where the Commonwealth is or of which war you're speaking but what I'm trying to say is yes. For whatever reason, I've found myself here as well. You looked like someone that might have an idea of what's going on so here I am, being a bit of a bother.

[ Rhodey finds himself in a similar situation. Except, instead of being in a workshop tinkering with bits of random machinery, Rhodey himself had been mid-conversation with some of his superiors in the Air Force. There hadn’t been any warning at all before he’d suddenly found himself here.

Wherever here may be.

And as he walks around, taking a second to get his bearing, he really can't find it in himself to be surprised when it's Tony's voice he hears not too far from him. In all fairness, a lot of weird has been happening lately. It's reassuring in a way he can't describe, to know that the weird shit is happening to both of them and not to only one of them.

~~Not to only Tony, especially.~~ ]

If only. [ That's not to say he isn't completely dismissing the idea. After all, Norse Gods have turned out to be very real, Captain America is walking around in the 21st Century, and his best friend is a real life superhero. Why not Captain Kirk as well? ]

Wherever we are, [ Rhodey spares a glance at all the trees in the forest they’re currently standing in. Most likely not the USS Enterprise. ] I don't think it's in Kansas.

[ The kind of display of strength she's shown wouldn't be out of place on someone like, say, Thor. But it is a little... strange, to see it from someone else while he stands in a town in the middle of the 18th Century. Based on what she's wearing, she's clearly not from this time -- which makes sense, given a bit of thought. If she were from this era, she probably wouldn't have slipped up in such an obvious way.

He wonders if she's a Greek God, like Thor. Or maybe some other kind of alien. After all, they've proven to be very real. Even if she was something else entirely, Rhodey doubts he'd be surprised by much at this point.

He gives her a small sympathetic smile as she whispers to him, and whispers back: ] Yeah. Pretty sure people saw that.

[ She very well may be faking her injuries, but Rhodey doesn't like seeing people in pain, even faked pain. So he puts a hand to her back and gently guides her to the nearest building -- a tavern. Hopefully there'll be some place to sit down, away from the crowds. ]

You may want to think about laying low for a bit.

[ After all -- out of sight, out of mind. ]

[It's a good thing Elle is used to rough people, because this town is full of them. The entire place is like Gomorrah met Atomic Wrangler and cranked it all up a half dozen notches. She doesn't know how she feels about the fact that it's more familiar -- and, as a result, comforting -- than anything else that's happened so far. This island -- It's so alive. With greenery, with animals, with people. More alive than anything she's ever seen. Even the ocean (the ocean, her first time seeing it -- ) is teeming, always moving, never still.

But even the people in Tortuga, with all their rough edges, don't have a voice like that. Elle's head turns before she can even process what she's hearing. A ghoul? A ghoul. She's not just seeing things, this is --

This is bad.

Elle can't not get involved. (Since when has she ever been able to leave well enough alone?)]

Hey! [She kind of appears out of the crowd. Her small stature makes it easy for her to weave in and out between people, and it definitely helps here, when she needs to get over there before a fight breaks out. She's breathing heavily by the time she reaches them.] Hey -- It's fine. It's alright. [She isn't thinking as a hand instinctively reaches towards the ghoul, as if she might touch his upper arm. She's too busy to catch herself like she normally would. Her eyes are on the gentleman, her words for him.] Just... Keep walking, okay?

[At first he doesn't even see her, not until her hand makes contact with his arm, and its just instinct to pull away, because it's obvious he's half tempted to go after the guy, even though he's obviously got enough rocks in his head to figure out hanging around might not be the best option.]

Yeah, that's right, you better run, asshole. [It figures a town like this - full to the brim with all kinds of hedonism, and a mindset, from what he's observed otherwise, so far - would, of course, have its ghoul-haters. Doesn't even matter that they've probably never even seen a ghoul before, it's the principle of the thing.

But, well, he'll let him run. This time. He catches that fucker doing it again, though, and all bets are off. Which is why he simply straightens his coat with one last dark look in the direction of the guy before finally getting a good look out of the do-gooder that had jumped between. Short, road-worn clothes, one of those idiotic hats the Neighborhood Watch likes to wear and...

Yeah, his eyes aren't playing tricks on him, and he's not high (he knows that for sure now). That's definitely a pipboy. Which means one of two things, not counting that this kid has wastelander stamped all over her.]

You scavenge that off a dead vault dweller or did you pop out of the ground like a molerat.

[When the ghoul moves away, Elle is more concerned about keeping herself between him and the fleeing man than re-establishing contact, just in case he really does try to lunge. But he doesn't, only yells after the guy, and... well, that's alright. Elle starts to relax as the conflict passes.

Her eyes are on the back of the retreating gentleman as Hancock takes her in. She starts to look back to him when he says vault, but then she double-takes at the second half of his sentence. It takes her a second to think past what that means to her and realize what he actually means.

She laughs.] Uh... More of that second one. But not in the way you're thinking. [Her posture settles into something casual, instead of standing straight, no longer ready to try to physically intervene between the fight that didn't end up happening. She sticks her hands in the pockets of the desert ranger coat.] But, um, yeah. It was a gift.

Edited (missing words) 2017-05-07 04:11 (UTC)

Lady, at this point I don't think there's much I won't believe. [Which is actually pretty true. The last...Few hours, anyway, have been full of some very weird shit, and that's saying something, coming from a man that looks like he does, coming from a place where things like two-headed deer and giant killer chameleons are kind of the norm.

Murder-plants seem kind of tame, actually, now that he thinks about it. If there's anything like that out in the vast expanses of the hellscape that is wasteland, well. He hasn't heard of it, but he wouldn't be surprised.]

You know, the Commonwealth. Formerly known as Boston before everybody pushed the big red buttons and dropped the bombs. [He kind of doubts she does know, however.] What I can tell you, though, is that is definitely a whorehouse [with a nod at the building he'd been idly watching] -and this is definitely a blacksmith, and this place is definitely a little hinky, you feel me?

[The ocean pulls Elle to it like there was a siren out there calling her. In a way, there is -- Curiousity counts as a siren, doesn't it? She's never seen the ocean before. She can't... She can't resist. She wants to see more of it, wants to get closer. And the roads in Tortuga lead right down to the docks.

She's drawn next by the clamor of the hoist breaking. If there's trouble, she wants to see what it is, see if there's anything she can do.

... and, it looks like she's not alone. Elle slows down, again, curious as to what the girl is going to do. But, when instead, she gets immediately brushed off? ... yeah, Elle is picking up her pace again and stepping up into conversational range.]

Hey, it wouldn't hurt to at least hear her out, [Elle interjects, unable to help her frown.]

Not how I'm thinking. [There's amusement in that - a good deal of it - but then...Well, she's probably right. She's entirely too what he expects to be a wide-eyed vault dweller who's still trying to figure out why everyone's such an asshole. Hell, she hasn't even said boo when it comes to him, which means she's at least seasoned enough to have seen at least one ghoul before.

He can work with this. He shoves his hands in his pockets as well, mimicking her actions, though his is a bit deceptively casual.]

So, a wastelander shows up in this place with a pipboy and doesn't freak out over the ghoul. And saving the ass of some racist smoothskin. [That last is definitely a dark joke.] Probably for the best, be a shame to get my boots all bloody.

You from the Commonwealth?

[When he echoes her words back, sounding amused, Elle just grins, a touch sheepish. But that's all she's gonna say about that for now. It stopped being beneficial to spout off what happened to her to every stranger she came across the better part of a year ago. She's just gonna... leave it where it is for now, unless -- maybe more like "until" -- he decides to ask about it further.]

The Commonwealth? [Now it's her turn to echo. It's clear from her tone that she's never heard of it.] No. I'm from the Mojave. My name's Elle, Elle Days.

That would imply - and I'm sure you wouldn't, that would be...Incredibly rude and thoughtless, right? - that I would be stupid enough to tell the pirate I was from the future. Which, believe it or not, I don't happen to be, because the endgame here is to find out what's going on, not get branded as the town nutcase.

[Did you get all of that?

But he unfolds his arms, giving another shrug that is perhaps not as annoying as he spreads his hands in a gesture of peace.]

I am all for making friends. In fact, friends that know what showers are and...You know, basic hygiene? The best kind of friends to have. So let's agree that I don't know you, you obviously don't me or this conversation would be moot, and maybe the main priority should be info instead of seeing who has the bigger wallet. I like it. Let's do it.

No shit. [Oh, everyone knows there's the rare traveler in from out west. He's never met one personally, the Commonwealth is pretty insular, now that he thinks about it, on the whole except for a few of the traders. Daisy, he knows, has some contacts in DC, and he's sure there are caravans that have come in from the Mojave and beyond to Bunker Hill. And, of course, those Brotherhood of Steel assholes up from DC. Regardless. The Mojave's a hell of a long way from Goodneighbor.]

I guess it's just a shithole all over, then. Name's Hancock. I run Goodneighbor. [Not that that probably means much, and he actually hasn't been back to Goodneighbor in a while, but he's just going to throw it out there, anyway.]

So what's the odds on the two of us ending up in this place. Looks like some kind of old-timey pre-war fantasy land or something.

[And don't think he hasn't considered the idea that this is some trippy Vault-Tec something. Because he has.]

[He's not sure, really, whether relief at hearing Rhodey's voice is what he's supposed to be having, but it's what he feels all the same, as he drops his gaze from the canopy to search him out. And yeah, that's definitely relief, at least at first. Because at least he knows he's in one piece, and it's one less thing he has to worry about, finding himself in this place.]

Kansas with global warming, maybe. [It's not very funny, however, and Tony knows that, but well. It's out there now.]

Let's be honest, though, the real question is how, right? How do the both of us get snatched with no missing time - I'm not missing time, are you? - and dropped into a damn jungle without even realizing it. Is that even possible? Because I'm calling bs on that right now.

[Okay, so...That's. That's new. Doesn't disprove his point, though, and he'd love a chance to see that up close and personal with the ability to film it and analyze it and not be stuck in some backwater 18th Century hellhole so he could make sense of it, but he's going to have to deal with what he's got.]

That's impressive. But see, that just proves my point. I'm willing to bet it's got something to do with molecular excitement with sound as the catalyst and I would actually kill to be home right now to actually pick that apart.

Point being. I met a couple of Norse gods a while back. Turns out they're aliens. So yeah, magic is just science we can't explain, and I'm betting that's no different.

Sounds like it, [Elle agrees, but then admits,] It's nice to meet you, Hancock. My, uh, my geography's not great... Where's the Commonwealth? [It's better than the time she asked, "What's a Chicago?"

She rocks a little on her heels.] I dunno. Everything I've heard about Pre-War... [She looks around them. This place looks a little more run down than the pictures she's seen, than what she'd been imagining.] This town is kind of... I mean, I kind of guessed it'd be nicer, you know? But none of these people have heard of the Great War. Or... know anything wasteland-y. [Y'know. Like ghouls.]

I guess we could've been kidnapped and teleported to some remote island the war didn't touch, or something. Or... This could be some weird kind of simulation, and we're stuck in a big computer. [These are things that wouldn't surprise her terrible much.]

1. tortuga - whorehouse.
bare ankles AND bare calves? elle, you scoundrel.

[When you come from a post-apocalyptic wasteland with heavy 50's themes baked in, you tend to dress the part. We're talking a run down flower-print dress, with a knee-length bell-shaped skirt, covered in grime and stains, paired with sturdy boots that have desert sand caked into the seams. Oh, sure, there's a Pip-Boy on her arm, too, and a heavy-looking leather backpack strapped to her shoulders. And a hat! The hat is important, a black fedora with a wide brim, and it keeps the tropical sun out of her blue eyes just as well as it did the desert sun.

But while this outfit works out for New Vegas, it, uh. It doesn't so much the 18th century.

Elle hasn't thought anything of it at first. There aren't actually as many odd looks being sent her way compared to what the other people who arrived with her seem to be getting. She doesn't feel like she blends in, necessarily, but... Maybe it's that she doesn't stand out as much as some of the others? Maybe?

... ex...cept that now that she's getting closer to one of the more populated buildings (which she doesn't realize is a brothel), she's starting to get more stares. Except... for the fact that those stares aren't really... hostile? Or uninviting?

... quite the opposite, actually. Because now there's a guy coming up to her, filthy in a way she isn't used to, given the tropic humid heat. The strong smell of alcohol wafting off of him is more familiar, though.

It takes her a second to realize that she has no idea what this man is saying to her. None of these words are ones she recognizes, like, at all. But what she does pick up on is the lascivious look he's giving her.]

What? [she squawks.] Uh... No. Sorry, I don't... I'm, uh, not interested.

[He doesn't seem to understand her, either. Because he's laughing with drunken merriment and throwing his arm around her shoulder anyway. This is Elle's face of regret and unhappiness as a new wave of Drunky Smell hits her.

Um. Ew.]

2. tortuga - market.
what's this? ooooh, wait, no, what's THAT?

[Yeah, so, Elle learns her lesson and changes her clothes pretty fast. It's much, much safer to be wearing jeans and her Courier Duster. She still doesn't fit in, but at least when people look at her, it's got nothing to do with... uh... yeah.

Which means she's a lot more comfortable milling around in the crowds closer to the docks. The reason why there are so many people in this area becomes quickly obvious -- It's a market. And it's just full of all kinds of things that Elle has never seen before. It really doesn't take her long before she starts flitting excitedly from stall to stall, eyes bright and eager. Look at those fish! Look at these fruit!

Most importantly... Look at this beautiful bird. Holy shit? It's so pretty? Elle hovers by the cage, cooing at a parrot like an idiot. The person who's trying to sell the bird is looking more and more irritated the longer she stands there without buying it, but she doesn't seem to notice. Instead, when she looks up, she spots someone who stands out, just like her. She eagerly reaches out for their arm without thinking.]

Hey! Hey, check this out, isn't it pretty?

3. tortuga - beach.
when i look at the water, and hear the waves lapping against the shore... it's almost like i can hear another voice.

[It's so weird. Night has fallen, and the town's lights are bright and the people are noisy, and there's still so much to learn about this place. So much she can't wrap her head around.

... but here she is, standing on the beach by herself. As humid as the evening is, it's cold here, right on the edge of the water. The Survivalist's coat isn't enough to keep the chill off. She should probably go back to the town, where it's a bit warmer. Instead...]

Why do I know this? [she asks the salty air, staring out at the sea like maybe it'll answer her.

She doesn't. She's never seen the ocean before. She's never been on a tropical island before. So why... Why is there this feeling in her chest that's a little bit like home?]

Edited 2017-05-07 07:26 (UTC)

[Norrington knows where he is, what he doesn't know is why. He wanders Tortuga aimlessly in the blood-stained uniform of the EITC, hoping that if he walks and thinks long enough, something will start to make sense.

An hour later and his circumstances are as mysterious as ever, but he has found a moment of certainty in the sight of a filthy blackguard accosting a young woman. As a gentleman, the action he must take is clear.

He pulls the man's arm off of the girl and inserts himself between them, aggressively looming.]

The lady isn't interested. Go back to the pig pen you came from.

[He reaches for the hilt of his sword, to rest his hand on it in implicit threat...but his sword isn't there.

Well.

That unfortunately complicates things.]

[Luckily, it doesn't look like the effect of the sword is needed. One, because this dude is clearly too drunk to even realize that there's no sword there, and two, because Norrington is tall and his body language is crystal clear. The man doesn't respond in English, instead in a heavily slurred French, but he's clearly not keen for a fight, because he just holds his hands up in the universal sign of "I surrender" and begins to toddle away.

Elle stays close to her rescuer, eyes still wide with surprise. This all happened pretty fast... She doesn't know who's more lucky that he intervened, her or the drunk guy. She wouldn't have wanted to hurt him, but...

... speaking of hurt, is this -- Is that -- ]

Oh my god, are you okay? [That's -- That's a lot of blood. That's... a lot of blood. Elle is fumbling for the pocket on her pack where she keeps her quick-access stimpaks even before she gets an answer.]

I was dead. As content as one could be residing in literal Hell. Sulfur and brimstone, the whole nine yards. [Murder-plants are just the tip of the iceberg, really.]

Pretty sure I've just been resurrected somehow because this place feels an awful lot like actually being alive again. Which sounds insane when I say it out loud. No way to really prove it, though. Could just be some particularly potent Hell wine.

[Christine laughs because...she should really avoid strange beverages more than she does. She easily moves on from her own story and focuses on what he's saying, though.]

See, now I know where Boston is. Can't say I've ever been to America, though. Lived my life on the other side of the ocean. [Nope, no clue about the bombs. When she had been alive the first time, scientists were just discovering radioactivity. In death, most of the knowledge she's picked up is related to music or...completely useless trivia.

She raises an eyebrow and gives him a look that includes a slightly exaggerated eye roll.]

I'm not that dense, I know what a blacksmith's looks like. But yes, I feel you. But. [A thought is occurring to her and sorry, new corpse-faced friend. She might just drag you along for it.]

If this is really the living world, that means there's living world food. As in, it'll actually be edible, not be completely rotten through with some sort of magical Hell mold that'll make you grow horns or it won't still be writhing on the plate. It's never fun when you have to eat your food before it eats you, you know? [This woman is far too excited about something so simple.] Alcohol that doesn't vaguely taste like it's already been thrown up? I take that back, this place could be a wonderland. [A small pause.]

Care to join me on a food adventure, fellow traveler?

[What hasn't occurred to her quite yet is that she's going to need money to pay for that food. Or she'll have to steal it.]

I'm perfectly all right. [And he is, he just doesn't know how.]

It isn't my blood. [Not true, but it seems the easiest way to assuage the girl's concerns.]

[Try harder? Rafe? He'll do it, but his neutral features quickly turn into knit brows and a scowl. The next pirate who has the misfortune of in his way makes a loud splash into the mud, and another an elbow to the ribs.]

The-- the tricorn! [Half of these people were wearing them, he'll try again.] Long coat! Staggering! [Again,] Looks like Depp-- Goddamn--

I want to know whoever owns that goddamn black ship! [Now he's getting somewhere. But really, he doesn't know the Pearl? A crime.]

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TEST DRIVE 001b

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i - don't mind the dust

Tortuga - because I loved them last time, you can't get rid of me

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/reaches for

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courier six | fallout: new vegas

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