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entranceworks2017-01-28 06:10 pm
vitaelamorte) wrote in entranceworks2017-01-28 06:10 pm
Entry tags:
+ ENTRANCEWAY TEST DRIVE MEME +
You have a magnificent voice that is just waiting to be heard? You bring life and depth to a character in so many incredible ways? You are bursting with clever lines, thoughtful insights, and gripping plots? You are a rising star, a well-loved household name, a beginner with all the luck? You want an audience for your character, an ensemble to join you on the stage? THEN YOUR MOMENT HAS FINALLY COME!
Lights! Camera! Action! At the dazzling, awe-inspiring, crowd-pleasing, and thoroughly biodegradable
♥ ENTRANCEWAY ♥
TEST DRIVE MEME
► Try out any new characters and new Mirrors here! Have a go at the setting, thread with its current players, and see if Wonderland is a good fit for you and/or your character. Post a top level comment, tag into other people's starters, enjoy yourself!
► Thread your character's arrival, set a scene with them as long-established inhabitant, or let one of our past events inspire you. Any starter is fine, and both prose and comment spam are welcome!
► Please only note that threads on the test drive meme ARE NOT GAME CANON. They can't be used as part of the activity check OR as samples for any future applications. Thank you for understanding!
► Intrigued? Check out our...NAVIGATION | INPUT & INQUIRIES | TAKEN CHARACTERS | WANTED CHARACTERS | RESERVES | APPLICATIONS
AND THAT IS ALL, open the curtains, take the stage, and have fun! ♥
Alistair Grout | VtM: Bloodlines
Your travel companion on the Oregon Trail is ye olde prospector Grout. He insists on driving this wagon by night, because he has sensitive eyes and sunburns easily, OKAY? He also really likes the sound of his own voice, and won't shut up about the good old days. But there are pros to travelling with him too: he doesn't eat
anythingmuchat all, and also mysteriously the wagon he's riding in doesn't seem to have the rodent problem other wagons do?Mysterious. Anyway, he's a normal mortal human. ]
My dear (boy/girl/nonbinary companion), [ he asks one day as your wagon creaks slowly towards the Kansas River Crossing, ] A question occurs to me. Can you swim?
( Hello, hi hello! Alistair is a very-slightly-prophetic vampire with a brief description and permissions post. If you tag please mention in the subject or message whether it's okay for him to get accurate information about your character, see the linked post for details!
Also if you'd rather do a normal mansion tag than absolutely go for it, hit me anywhere as long as it's after sundown! )
no subject
anymoremuch. He likes that somebody else volunteered to play nighttime driver though, before he could make a half-hearted offer of his own. He maybe does not like that Alistair talks for the both of them, that he literally talks for the both of them, while his telepathic powers are on event hiatus, and he is left with nothing but a travel-sized chalkboard and the accompanying white writing utensil.Busy tinkering with their wagon's grandfather clock (Why did they bring a clock on this trip, Jesus Christ?) Philip's urgent boredom is interrupted by a question. He looks at Alistair, and frowns. He glances along the road, to the river ahead. He looks at the conclusion, and frowns some more.
Then it's time for the quiet screeching of chalk. ]
Yes. Will we have to?
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He gazes at the chalkboard.
Heh! You'd hope the little mermaid would be able to swim, says one particularly grating and unfriendly voice from the vicinity of Philip's hand. Grout snorts softly. It's been calling Philip that since the trip began, and Grout would love to tell it that he's gotten the joke already, this trite and obvious jest at the expense of Philip's missing voice. What master riddlers the voices think themselves, while they deliver these one-note observations.
He peers at the words on the chalkboard. He has absolutely no intention of mentioning his invisible companions, of course. Luckily, this particular observation has a mundane source. ]
Simple logic, my friend. The country here is lush and green, with a healthy ecosystem of rabbits and rats, and apparently no shortage of rain. [ Though the less said about THAT, the better. He's still knocking mud out of his nice period-appropriate boots. ] And what are the veins of the natural world if not the waterways? We are going to hit upon a river or lake before this event is through, you mark my words. With luck our path will run parallel to it and it will prove a companion rather than a foe in our way, but my impression of events is that they rarely afford us luck, is that right?
no subject
Philip reaches for the chalkboard anew. ]
So that's a 'maybe'?
no subject
I suppose in your unfortunate condition, a 'maybe' is a sufficient distillation.
no subject
Tell you what:
[ It's a preface. Needs extra attention on the chalkboard. He writes it down, shows it to Alistair, and cleans it off meticulously. Next round: ]
When we get to the next settlement I'll find a merchant.
[ Show. Erase. Repeat. ]
I'll sell him our grandfather clock, and in exchange I'll get
[ There is a case to be made for communicating in a smaller font, but then again. Show. Erase. Repeat. ]
a bigger chalkboard, so I can keep up.
no subject
...Grout literally cannot believe he waited that long just to be sassed in low-quality handwriting. ]
I'm glad to see I can look forward to more and more of this light chalk dusting. [ He brushes an imaginary speck from his waistcoat to drive home the point. ]
throws a robot at you at LIGHT SPEED (also feel free to have him get some accurate reads off of him)
Now, he's never seen this man eat anything but to be fair, Mettaton doesn't need to eat either. He just likes to for the #aesthetic. But not in this case, due to rations being kind of low and he's pretty sure the organic begins around him would kick his ass if he wasted food like that. So this little fact is something that just blissfully goes over his head. He is, however, grateful for the lack of rats. He likes rodent Monsters, but rodents without the magic and sentience? Yikes.
As for the talking, well, Mettaton is plenty of a talker himself, so they have probably gotten into quite a few discussions about "the good ole days" since Mettaton is always interested in learning about "human" culture.
Today, Mettaton's kept himself entertained with calculating how long it would take for this wagon, going at the speed it currently is and suddenly given the ability to fly, to reach the outer atmosphere of Wonderland when he hears Alistair's question. He pauses, really taking it in, then slowly turns to look at his traveling companion. He gives him a long, searching look, giving the "human" enough time to really think about why, exactly, asking him of all people this question is a bit... silly.]
I can't say I have ever tried.
[The smile plastered on this robot's face is a lovely blend of disbelief, sass, and amusement.]
yessssssss
The way to this man's heart really is through his ego.
And it's his ego that takes d10 aggravated damage as it dawns on him that that was... that was sort of a stupid question. And his unseen companions agree, as a high laughter that he alone can hear echoes from Mettaton's general direction. He waves it off with a movement not unlike he's swatting at a fly. And he forces himself to laugh as well, to hide his embarrassment. ]
W-well, it is death to the scientific mind not to ask. There is more honour in asking than in making a false assumption, you know.
[ Yes, it was actually a very smart question. The best question. ]
no subject
That is a fair point, darling.
[He looks out beyond them both, seeing the slowly approaching river and looks thoughtful.]
I must say though, I'd much rather avoid swimming if I can.
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He doesn't look like he's being mocking. ]
That does seem wise. I shouldn't like to go swimming with you either.
[ He doesn't raise his voice over the talking. He has years of practice at resisting that.
Grout pulls at his ear, wishing they'd appreciate his effort.
(He's done that more than once on the journey; often enough for it to seem like an ordinary tic, a habit when thinking, maybe earache. Something mundane.)
Thoughtfully: ]
It would put one in mind of a man-sized toaster going into an equally overlarge bath.
no subject
It would certainly be an electrifying experience for us both!
[His cheeky smirk downplays the low level panic of "oh goodness did Alphys make me water proof why did I never ask?" going through his head.]
I suppose I'll have to find another way around the river. I'm assuming you know how to swim?
no subject
I do, of course.
[ The concept of vampires not being able to cross running water is just base superstition, and he's never had any truck with it. ]
Ideally, neither of us will have to sizzle to a final death in river water. This wagon is made of wood; assuming a slow current, it might be possible to float it.
no subject
[An entire wagon? Floating in the river? At the mercy of the current?]
That sounds very risky. Couldn't we lose the wagon and everything in it?
[Mettaton would be fine if they lost their food supplies, but his friend here might not be so good. ...On second though, has he ever seen him eat? Hm. He never thought about it before.
He probably does eat, just not when Mettaton is looking. Yes. That must be it.]
Are those our only two options? Swim or try to float?
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Self-important ass. ]
I may give the impression of a savant,
[ He's kidding. Probably. The perpetually dry and meandering quality of his voice makes it difficult to tell. ]
But on this subject, I am as out of my depth as our wagon will be shortly. I... suppose if the water is shallow enough we might simply drive straght across, but our wheels and the oxen's hooves would be ill-equipped if the riverbed harboured quicksand or something of that nature.
[ Quicksand is found in water, right? He thinks so.
The invisible peanut gallery keeps up its comments at the slow pace of the wagon's rock and creak, and he listens in case they have insight, but... no, they seem happy to babble. ]
no subject
If I were strong enough, I'd just stretch us all across, but I'm afraid my strength gives out once you get to "wagon" size.
[He has long noodle arms. There is no muscle there.]
We could test the water depth to see if it is shallow enough before we go strolling through it. Or, I suppose, we could look to see if there is a ferry anywhere nearby and just pay someone to take us across.