Test Drive Meme #1

[fernwehmods]

Welcome to Fernweh's Test Drive Meme! Do you have an interest in joining the game? Need to make sure the setting works for you and your character first? Or have you made the decision to join the game and need fresh samples for your application? Whatever the reason, feel free to use the scenarios however you wish.

You know what to do! If you don’t, just follow the instructions.

How To Play:

→ Comment with the character you would like to test drive (duplicates are allowed)
→ Choose a scenario or start your own
→ Tag around
→ Have fun!

SCENARIOS

01. Arrival

You have been sitting and staring at the sign above you for some time now, lost in a blur of swirling questions that seems to start with how you ended up there; in a place (and time, maybe) that you know you weren't an hour earlier. Or maybe you're an old hand at this by now and you've figured out that this is simply another stop that the multiverse bus has made. So why not get off and look around a little?

At any rate, the sign points you towards the direction of a place called "Gazin", which looks like a decent-sized town from where you stand. There has to be someone who can explain.

02. Around Town

So, you've settled in. Well, mostly. At least you know where things are without taking too many wrong turns and ending up in the less desirable areas of town. But now you can go about your day. Visit the market, check out the local shops or have a drink with a new friend at one of several inns.

03. Exploring

You've heard people talk about some pretty interesting places and now you're itching to get out and find them. Be careful though, there are creatures and monsters out there that will be pretty interested in meeting you and may wish to have you for its next meal. Better take someone along. And maybe some weapons, too. Make sure one is made of silver.

04. Monsters

So, you managed to find that location you were looking for. Good for you! Only.. it seems you've also found one of the native creatures to the area and you now face to face with it. Um. Good luck! We'll see you when you get back!

Hopefully.

05. Celebration

It won't take long for you to figure out that people of Gazin are, all in all, pretty happy people. It shows, too, when a seemingly quiet evening suddenly bursts into a random, impromptu party to celebrate whatever good fortune has touched a person. Name Days, good harvests, betrothals, weddings, or just life in general.

Sing, dance, drink and be happy, too!

06. Wild Card!

Want something else? Feel free to choose your own adventure or mix and match to create something completely different!

NAVIGATION

Comments

Geralt of Rivia | The Witcher (Netflix)

[evil_isevil]

01. Arrival

Geralt of Rivia is typically a calm guy, though he is also often grumpy and finding himself in an unknown place by way of unknown means is only adding to his irritation. Not to mention he's without either of his swords and that alone leaves him feeling not particularly friendly if someone else happens to be close-by and wanting to chat.

Amber eyes look ahead and then slowly move behind him, sure he would spot the leftovers of an active portal which would solve the puzzle of how he got there. But spotting the violet-eyed sorceress, who might still be mad at him for his last wish, wasn't much of a success. He didn't even have a horse. Well, not yet, anyway.

Letting out a long, deep, grumbly sigh, Geralt starts his walk towards the city where he hopes to get some answers.


05. Celebration

The longer Geralt is there, the more he could close his eyes and imagine himself in Novigrad or Vizima, giving a sense of familiarity in a small way. He's spent the last few days since arriving quietly getting to know the area, listening in on conversations that have to do with "pest" control and the odd regaling of a patron's tale of when he came face to face with a monster! It was one of the better tales he'd heard, but it still made his eyes roll.

When the music picked up and the celebration began, Geralt remained in his corner, drinking his pitcher of ale while looking every bit the part of someone who wanted to be left alone. Of course, that didn't stop some of the females from wandering over...

05. Celebration

[ofwovenstone]

Cassandra feels much like he does, in the preferring to be left alone. But it’s rather difficult with the celebrations going on around them. All she wants to do is sit and eat and drink in peace... After the third time she has to slip out of someone’s reach or sidle out of their way there is a spate of swearing running silently through her head. Pelor she just wants to sit and eat and breathe without someone constantly seeing if she’d like to dance or like some company. (No, no she does not.)

The sight of him, sitting in his corner with his ale looking like she feels, with more than one woman making their way over to him with predatory gazes in their eyes, gives her an idea. A way to possibly kill two birds with one stone and perhaps get them BOTH left alone for the moment. If he goes along with it. How she wishes Ceres had gifted her with telepathy.

So she wends her way gracefully through the inn, easily reaching his table before the women who have set their eyes on him, giving him an easy, familiar smile as though they actually know each other. “There you are,” she says, settling into the chair opposite him and setting her ale and plate of food down on the table. “I couldn’t find you for all the celebration going on.” Her sharp blue-eyed gaze shifts to the women who have finally sidled up to the table, arching an eyebrow as if to ask them ‘need something?’. With a touch of 'Do you mind?'

Herbert West - H.P Lovecraft's ReAnimator - 01

[delicatelydiabolical]

Oh, the horrors.

His greatest creation; Major Sir Eric Moreland Clapham-Lee, had returned. He had returned to the house the scientist and his partner had shared in Boston. One moment the sounds of the dead coming through the old masonry, and the sound of his partner screaming and fainting. He prayed for the first time since his youth, wishing deeply to be anywhere else, trying to press against the wall to fight off the death coming for him.

The sun was suddenly bright, everything was blurry for a moment as his glasses had gone askew when he appeared before the sign. His long blond locks tied back in a simple black ribbon, dressed in a very sharp suit and a long evening jacket over it, as he had been ready to go out on a job before the package arrived and destroyed any hope he ever had of escaping his creations.

Reaching up with shakey hands he pushed his glasses up looking around.

Dunwich had been tiny and vast, but this land around this sign, didn't have the same feel as his damned childhood home. Looking up at the sign once more he idly wondered if he had rightly, and truly gone mad, he had been in Boston, likely about to met his end and yet... here he was.

And here he started to walk towards the town, he pulled his coat closed tighter around him as he moved down the road. The man himself, was a fair slender looking youth, looking no more than nineteen at best, which was far from true, but his crimes had never touched his face or body, he stayed forever young as he moved through the world commmiting crimes against life and death looking to stop true order of man's plan, live and die. No, West wanted to live forever. To let everyone live forever if he could. And for now, the delicate looking man simply walked wondering what kind of town Gazin would be.

S2 Ragnar

[givefarmore]

The Viking had uttered the wish many, many times before and nothing had ever happened, thinking the Gods must have seen a reason for him to stay and finish whatever business he needed to. Never did he wish it in battle, even though no man ever did. Ragnar doesn't remember wishing it while he was taking care of King Horik for his betrayal and deceit or the rest of his family. And it didn't come to him that he was there because of a thought he didn't remember having.

But that was what the man in the hooded robe told him, right after he waved his hand and spoke in a language he could understand. It was magic he only ever heard of and there was a quiet suspicion that the man who introduced himself only as Bhalris must have been a god. Because only gods could do that sort of thing, right?

Ragnar walked with the druid until they reached the Gazin gates and then spent the next little while looking around, wondering when he would find his family.

Surely if he made it there, they did, too.

Cassandra de Rolo | Critical Role

[ofwovenstone]

01. Arrival.

This isn’t the first time Cassandra has ended up somewhere strange. She’s almost getting used to it, by now. And at least she’s not naked, this time. That is something. She finds she doesn’t mind it, either; she’d been filled with such a desperate desire to be free of the City, to be back in Rome, to be somewhere familiar. (Not Whitestone. Never Whitestone.) To be somewhere... else.

And here she is, somewhere that reminds her a bit of Rome, and more of the good parts of Tal’Dorei, the ones outside Whitestone’s walls. She almost feels.... lighter, for however intense the relief filling her chest is.

The city Gazin sounds as good a place as any to begin learning more about the world where she’s found herself, so she begins walking towards it.


02. Around Town.

Learning more about the world where she’s found herself proves terribly interesting, and she finds herself exploring the town of Gazin at length. The market is lovely, and she picks up a bit of produce, as well as a trinket or two from the shops. She even has a drink or two at one of the inns.

Her favourite places, however, are the herbarium and the apothecary, and she spends a great deal of time there, talking plants and remedies. She does, after all, still have her Ceres given gifts, here. It would do her well to learn more about the flora she’ll be dealing with.



05. Celebration.

There’s a happiness to the people of Gazin that’s almost overwhelming at times. Cassandra’s not accustomed to this, the levity and cheer.... She is, however, terribly accustomed to the sudden bursting into celebration. Rome had been very fond of their festivals, after all. She’s just glad there’s less... nudity involved with these parties.

(That had been how she ended up with multiple carved winged phalloi. Not by choice, but she’d ended up with them.)

She prefers to keep to the outskirts of the celebration, though, sitting with her food and her ale at a table and watching the revelry going on around her. And hoping that she’ll be left alone for the time being.


06.Wildcard!

[Choose your own adventure!]

Re: Cassandra de Rolo | Critical Role

[neitherthisnorthat]

There is a flapping of wings overhead, and then a thump sound, that rattles the ground, and a soft voice, loud and yet not loud, comes to her ears.

"Lady Cassandra Johanna von Musel Klossowski de Rolo. It is good to see a friendly face." Behind her, close to the ground, settled and laying so that their head is lowered, and not completely towering over her, is J'mon Sa Ord, or as they are known in dragon form, Devo'ssa. Their draconian lips are curved in a smile as they survey the woman and the land around.

This land is new to them, but while they are startled and displeased to be stolen against heir will, there is also excitement, for this is the first new nonviolent thing to happen to them in a very long time. And in a life so long, new things are treasured.

beauregard lionett | critical role (campaign 2) | circa ep 69

[flurry_of_beaus]

01. arrival

[ Beau is not the type to sit still for too long, so while she has no idea where she is or what happened, she decides that standing there, staring at a sign won't get her anywhere.

So she heads down the path, straight to Gazin. Maybe she's found on the road, walking double time, gaze skittering here, there, everywhere in a distrustful, wary kind of way. She's looking for something. Someones. And they're not there.

The city that greets her is bustling and full. She wanders through the streets for a moment, trying to get the lay of the land, but quickly finds herself making eye contact with someone. She nods in a casual greeting, sauntering closer. In her comfortable and vibrant blue monk's robes, she looks relatively unassuming. But there's a great deal of muscle to her frame. She's doing her best to walk that fine line between gruff and friendly. It's hard for her. ]

Hey. What's the best place to get a drink around here?

02. around town

[ She settles in as much as she can without the Mighty Nein present. That is, she makes herself at home in the local tavern, sipping at poor beer and nonchalantly eavesdropping. Nothing sinister going on here; she's just looking for an explanation. For how she got here, for what here is, for where her friends are. Bad things are afoot back home and she doesn't trust her sudden arrival here one bit.

She moves from the bar to a table, nodding in greeting to the assorted persons playing a dice game there. She has enough gold in her pocket to get her through some time here, but she has to make more. She's not great at dice, but it's one way to get the conversation going.

Or maybe she's at the bulletin board looking for a job. Or information. Beau is not above a little criminal activity to make her way, and it's a good way to get the lay of the land. Better than honest work. She just has to be careful what she chooses.

And then there's the possibility that she arrives at a table out of the blue, nodding to the occupant with a casual air. ]

Hey. Strange place, huh?

03. exploring

[ Beau doesn't have any silver. Well, she has silver pieces, but not a silver weapon. All the same, she trusts her fists more than she trusts most people. So she heads out to the forest, a job on her mind. A goblin's stolen a family heirloom from someone in Gazin, and Beau's going to get paid good money to find it.

She tracks (or sort of tracks, sort of hopes) the creature to the forest. There she stands on the edge of the greenery, looking in at the dense mass of trees and branches. It's not the best situation. But she twirls her staff and considers how to start. ]

04. monsters

[ It's not a goblin that she finds but a harpy, which is just fantastic because she doesn't have any ranged weapons except throwing stars and she's not about to prick this thing to death. But every time the harpy makes a dive at her, Beau has an opportunity to grab, jump and strike. Lightning crackles in her bracers as she prepares to take another strike at the attacking creature. ]

Come on, you fucker.

05. celebration

[ She's a bit worse for wear after the battle with the harpy, but she's succeeded in that tussle, if not in finding the missing heirloom. She comes back to the town only to find herself in the middle of a celebration. It doesn't matter that she has no idea what it's for; Beau doesn't bother to find out. She simply makes a bee line for the alcohol, chugging down one cup before taking another. The second she takes a gulp of, but then slows down on, sipping instead as she gazes at the crowd. ]

Do we have any idea what this if for? [ She asks this of no one in particular, not even sure she'll get an answer. ]

06. wildcard

(( Open to anything and everything. Will match formats. evilsalmon or Evil Salmon#2308. ))

4.

[ofwovenstone]

[ Suddenly vines sprout out of the ground and branches from several trees reach out and wind around the harpy. The creature shrieks as it’s pulled to the ground, held there. Right within easy punching reach.

Almost simultaneously an arrow comes streaking out of the nearby trees towards the harpy, a young woman dressed in armour, her dark, white-streaked hair pulled back in a braid crowning her head. Cassandra spares a glance towards Beau. She recognizes a monk when she sees one. It’s a very distinctive fighting style.]

Go! Now!

[More vines wrap around the harpy as the creature struggles to free itself, some of the first vines breaking.]

Isa Riverwood | OC

[arrowsandherbs]

01. Arrival

These weren't her woods. This wasn't her cozy, well hidden tree home. The air, the plants, the feel of the place was strikingly different from the forests that Isa had been roaming around for most of her life. The most familiarity she had was with was her druid's staff and her short swords belted against her hips. She'd have prefered her bow.

With no real telling how she got here, having slept long past the portal that transported her closing behind it's deposit, and so Isa followed the signs. Without a cloak to hide under, Isa used the rose gold lengths of her hair to hide the shortened tips of her ears as she came into the edges of town.

Well, it didn't actively look like a bad place, but that meant nothing. You didn't live to a hundred and fifty by being fooled by appearances.

03. Exploring

As decent as most of the town seemed to be, Isa had never been much for larger towns and their bustle, much preferring nomads or her own Treefolk, who integrated beautifully with their environment instead of jutting up in the middle of a place with square stone boxes. Isa didn't hold it against them; they were built by young souls who'd seen very little of the beauty that the world could offer, or how they could live within it without such blatant destruction to give them space.

After she'd asked some questions and begged a bit of bread, her coin purse still on her horse back where she'd fallen asleep, Isa headed back out of town. She'd slept and lived wild before and Ranger skills were deeply useful for this kind of thing. You know. Waking up in another world kind of thing? The further south she traveled, the lighter she felt and the oncoming treeline of Vasari Forest was clearly why. Her face broke out into a grin as she trotted forward and into the forest.

There was little foreboding and she'd grown up amid similar trees - how could she be less than pleased to see them?

05. Celebration

Parties were not a new thing. Parties without some sense of upstanding sobriety were less so and while Isa had attended a few very small parties that weren't of the weighty Elven traditions, she was not wholly prepared for the noise and joy that greeted her as she came out onto the street.

The lights and music, the wildly free dancing looked graceful and raw, beautiful in its unrefined freedom. Someone pressed a drink into her hand and Isa took it with a half spoken thanks as the someone was already go back into the frey again. She couldn't partake, not really and so found herself walking around the edges, openly watching the faces of those participating with a subtle note of curious fascination, drink all but forgotten in her grasp.

There didn't seem to be a reason for the party, after a few gently asked questions and Isa marveled at their ability and willingness to celebrate nothing. Everything. How strange.

Celebration time, come on!

[tusktough]

"This place is a little weird, huh?"

Have an odded out half-orc standing to one side of the big party, watching it with worried and confused eyes. He had seen people get happy about the oddest of things, but never about nothing at all. Not without magic at play anyway. He had prayed to the Wildmother earlier that morning, but gotten no answers, and he was troubled by that, too.

Glancing at the woman, Fjord nodded, lifting a drink in salute. A drink he had brought elsewhere and brought with him. he had a weird feeling about this place.

dylan dog | dylan dog: dead of night

[biggerguns]

ARRIVAL.

Well, [ Dylan's got both hands on his lap, his head tilting slightly in the direction of whoever's sitting with him ] that's gotta be a sign, right?

[ Haha, literally. The name "Gazin" doesn't ring any bells, and Dylan definitely doesn't remember walking here and going to sit, of all things, but he's had enough of sitting awkwardly with some stranger by his side. Don't get him wrong, he likes his silence-- he just doesn't like it in the middle of the freaking unknown.

When you don't know what to do, it's best to find a solution.

So he gets up, exhaling softly, and looks in the direction the sign is pointing to. ] I'm heading there. [ Then he turns back, catching his companion's gaze. ]

You coming?

EXPLORING. ( ROSELAKE )

[ Chances are you, like Dylan, have felt something in your chest pulling you to Roselake. He's not much of a group or partner guy, but he understands the dangers of travelling alone, and probably on merit of keeping safe had convinced you to head over to that "spiritually charged" area northeast of Gazin alongside him.

Was he ready to be disappointed? Sure. But instead, with the sun kissing the horizon good night, he finds himself witness to fire fennecs dancing about the area instead-- small, and cute, and graceful as hell. ] Heh. At least some places are like home.

[ And don't get Dylan wrong-- he likes the old timey era more than anyone, probably, but it isn't the time period that makes him feel out of place. The blacksmith's is cool, the apothecary is cooler, but it's all pretty "normal" in terms of societal standards. Seeing what's definitely a supernatural creature is the clincher that makes him feel like he hasn't left New Orleans at all.

Fire fennecs... he's not sure what attracts them, but he looks about for a stick and picks a sizeable one up. Then he heads back to you, holding the stick out. ]

Wanna see if it'll play fetch?

MONSTERS.

[ Dylan bolts up from the bench he's fallen asleep on because something's crashed a few metres away. He blinks blearily, trying to adjust to darkness around him-- temperature-wise, he'd put the time at a little past two in the morning-- and then reels back at the sight of... what is that, a werewolf?

It darts, briefly, into moonlight, and he realises that it's anything but. It looks decidedly more canine than a werewolf, more like a beast than anything even slightly resembling human, and based on the way it's snarling as it turns barrels over and smashes into carts, it isn't really in a good mood, either.

The creature turns its big head, eyes glowing in the darkness, and looks like it's focusing on something. Dylan follows it, and while he doesn't quite see what it's looking at, he slips from the bench as quietly as he can to tiptoe a little closer to the area.

From this distance, he can just make out the shape of someone else out there-- someone else that this monster doesn't like. Dylan counts himself lucky the creature hadn't noticed him instead, but a long-hammered instinct to protect people and the undead from each other tells him to help the poor sap that the creature's locked sight on.

Thing is, he didn't account for how fast the thing would dart to him once he whistled for its attention, and Dylan only barely manages to dodge its lunge while crying out: ] Hurry up and run!

WILDCARD.

Leave me a starter or PM me if you'd like to discuss anything first. Feel free to reply through paragraph or brackets, past or present tense-- I'll adjust to whatever you choose.

@ arrival

[paukvdova]

[ Natasha groans softly at the joke about the metaphorical and literal sign, though a small smile cracks for just a briefest of moments at the edge of her lips. She'd been content to be in silence; she does her best work that way. ]

I suppose it is a sign, yes.

[ Her accent is a nondescript American one — something that wouldn't stand out as especially notable to Americans or people familiar with the country's accents. What she can't do anything about is her attire of A Definitely Normal Black Catsuit. Maybe she can make a joke about Casual Fridays at work. She stands, giving a slight tilt of her head. ]

Sounds like the famous last words of people who go find trouble or have it find them.

[ Which is to say, yes she's coming. ]

Percival de Rolo | Critical Roll | OTA

[terribletinkerer]

1 -the search for guns
This wasn't Pandemonium. Or perhaps it was. Perhaps he was under some sort of illusion magic or maybe he'd been banished to some other plain of existence. Perhaps he was hallucinating from the pain of that random bugbear that tore his arm off. Percy is certain he's not dreaming. So wherever he is, he needs to get his bearings. He needs to get back. But for now, he takes quick stock of everything.

Very quick stock.

"Oh no." After all, some very very important belongings are missing. Things other than his arm. Bad News and Anamus are missing. He has Manners and Deplomacy.

He needs to think calmly and rationally about this. Step one, find his guns. Step two, a cleric, to grow his arm back. Thus, the one armed Lord of Whitestone can be found combing the area. He can't let them fall into the wrong hands. They've done enough damage already.

[2 - I need healing]
After a lengthy search for his missing weapons, Percy finally admits, at least to himself, that he sort of does need that other arm. A visit to the local cleric is in order. The problem, he doesn't really have any clout in this city. No one has heard of him and demanding assistance hasn't gotten him more than a few dozen doors slammed in his face.

But a door has never stopped Percy (except all those times it had). The man heads through town with purpose, approaching whoever he can find that looks even remotely like they are in charge.

"Hello. My name is Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski de Rolo the third. I'm looking for a house of healing."

[3 - the search for Gold]
What do you know. The more things change... it's been a while since he'd been a dirt poor adventurer, with only the List and the rest of Vox Machina. It's rather much like the bad old days, charging out into the unknown with a half-assed plan if any plan at all after the Gods knew what in hopes of making enough to afford not sleeping out in the woods, again.

Healing had not come cheeply. Without the local coin, he had to barter his skills. Percy is no ranger however. He's not the Mistry of the Grey Hunt. He asks himself what Vex would do in this situation.

Certainly not crashing about with nothing but a sword. But sadly, the silvered sword is the only real weapon he has to his name right now. That and his companion.

His poor companion in this hunt. Percy, as usual is trying to take charge. "I think that of we surround it, we'll have a much easier time of it." He says it with a confidence he doesn't actually feel.

[4 - the search for the stick]

Percy doesn't do parties for the most part. He'll celebrate when it's appropriate. This party for all occasions is taxing his patience. The pub is wild around him. He mostly ignores it, sketching some designs in a small book he's managed to snag.

He doesn't even look up to grump at the proceedings. "You'd think they'd never get anything done, with how often this goes on." He's not jealous. Not one bit.

Wildcard

Emma Swan | OUaT

[savedbylove]

01. ARRIVAL

Emma sat on the rock staring at the sign above her head. Killian, Hook, whatever he went by was nowhere to be found, not that she had looked particularly hard, no she was in too much shock to look for anyone at the moment. She had just been sucked into a portal, yeah, but she was pretty sure it wasn't a place called Gazin.

If there was a tree remotely close to where she sat, she would be hitting her head against it because she wishes this was the first time she ended up in a place that she didn't belong. Displacement was becoming old hat to the savior, well, best be getting to it then, find a way home and not dying would be an added bonus.

Exploring

Emma felt most comfortable with a sword in her hand and she wasn't one for celebrations unless they were mandatory so she took the opportunity to explore the world around her. A crack of a branch had her spinning around, sword raised.

"Who's there?"

Wildcard

[ I am terrible at starters but feel free to spot her anywhere. ]

Re: Emma Swan | OUaT

[themerlin]

"Emma?" The voice was soft, as he stepped for the trees, and smiled. Merlin strode toward her with his robe trailing sparks that lit the area, but caught nothing on fire.

"Welcome to the weird once more." His grin was lopsided, and he nodded to her, very happy to see her.

John Constantine | dctv

[inconstantly]

AROUND TOWN

[Is a disheveled wizard sitting in the middle of the inn's tavern with back against the wall and legs stretched across the ground in anyone's way? He's not sorry about that, mostly because John is too groggy to know where he is at the moment, but he'd feel the same if he were sober also.

Should anyone attempt to walk past him or around him John will make himself into even more of a roadblock, hunching further down to create a larger and more lopsided sprawl.]

You there. Get me a pint, will ya?

[Between a slur, heavy lidded eyes, and inability to sit upright that might not be a good idea.]

CELEBRATION

[Parties were fun! A time for revelry and poor decision making. While John certainly enjoyed himself upon arriving, there seemed to be far too little of the aforementioned poor decision making. Not even gambling.

What was a party if no one was taking larger than wise risks and seeing if they pay off? Or in John's case, cheating to ensure that they paid off.

Everything is too happy, too apparent, too safe and John wants none of it. He's been away from home for only a short while and already he misses the adrenaline. That's why he's going to make his own game. Step right up, step right up to the less-than-amazing John Constantine Casino. It's dirty and there are no monetary prizes, but at the very least there are no guarantees and a high likelihood of inappropriate jokes.

And so John strides through the celebration looking for challenges, sometimes outright picking a fight starting with bumping into a person, sometimes a casual question of if they want to try their luck at rock paper scissors (if they seem like they might know what that is), or even asking if he can guess facts about a person and they can tell him if he's wrong or right. Which approach is your character unlucky enough to encounter?]

WILDCARD

[I'm up for other scenarios if you've got 'em in mind. PM me for questions! :D]

around town

[excelsus]

[When in a strange and new setting Dorian didn't typically go all-in for getting sloppy drunk, especially now that it seemed fate wished to drop him off in another world. His own and so he didn't feel entirely ill at ease, but he knew this wasn't Thedas either and a part of him misses the modern conveniences of the previous world he was in...among other things.

After wandering the streets of Gazin, which looked like the typical city he was used to, something a bit more southern, a bit more rustic (and in some places it smelled like it too) he popped into the nearest tavern for a reprieve. Maybe a drink, but his path to the bar was barred by a pair of legs that seemed to intentionally sprawl out in front of him as he was passing.

Adjusting his hood and staff, the mage made a derisive noise in the back of his throat, ready to just step over the legs in question until the vagrant in question had the gall to ask him for a pint...it sounded more like an order.]

Excuse me? I hardly think you're-

[But he stopped just short of telling the disheveled man off when he slowly came into focus, John was never quite to the nines, except for the first time Dorian had dressed him for a ball...and the man was as unshaven and sloppy drunk as he'd ever seen him...

...but it was still John.

Crouching down carefully Dorian curled both of his arms under the other man's and levered him onto his feet before wrapping both arms around him securely. and in a low voice barely above a whisper, but it sounded pleased nonetheless he said:]

I've missed you too, Amatus.

Thorfinn Karlsefni | Vinland Saga

[victoryorvalhalla]

01
It had been almost a year since that bald bastard had died in his arms, uttering the words that broke his spirit, his will and probably his mind. Master Ketil had been good to him, better than a man who raised his blades on a king should be... but he doubted that the man was even told anything when he bought him, and the young man was just as ready to forget his past as he could.

He had been hauling another log to the river when he felt suddenly faint. Taking a breath and blinking, suddenly he found himself before a sign, feeling just as sick. "...The fuck?" He muttered. Speaking in Norse, not yet having run into Bhalris yet.

02
After being enchanted, and hearing all the people around him speaking in tones he could understand, the dirty, long haired blond started to wander around the town, looking to see what their was. Never in his life had he really been free to wander. As a kid maybe, but the band was always near by, his village before that, and he was nor permitted to leave the farm since he was bought with a stack of gold. From Jarl to Karl, it was more than fair for his crime but what he wanted, Canute would not grant him.

Instead he decided to try not to focus on his misery, instead he would focus on exploring the large city, it was strange to see, nothing like Jelling but more like Jorvik. He found himself spacing out near a tavern his mind still running from everything he had been told. What in the world was all of this?

[ironforgedshieldmaiden]

Lagertha was on edge. Being transported by an unknown power didn't exactly instill a sense of peace, nor did the fog in her head that felt like it was still lingering over her mind despite her having come to her senses enough to make her way into the strange town. The buildings, the people, the weapons and tools they had - Lagertha had seen what progress looked like and this place was teeming with it.

The smiths, the markets filled with some familiar things, some drastically unfamiliar things and Lagertha wandered with wary eyes, hand on her sword as she unknowingly made her way towards the tavern. She stopped a few feet away from Thorfinn, listening to the sounds of drinking and conversation beyond. It would be a good place to listen to loose tongues.

The dirty blond boy caught her eye and she looked him up and down. He dressed.. well, in a way she was familiar with. He looked as lost as she felt and perhaps it was that that had her speaking up to him.

"Have you come from in there?" she asked carefully. If the look on his face was from being drunk, then she'd have to be careful. Drink less or none at all, if it were that powerful.

Jon Snow | Game of Thrones

[king_inthenorth]

[Arrival]

This wasn't exactly what Jon had meant when he wished that he could be somewhere else -- he hadn't enjoyed being in the middle of a battle against a seemingly endless army of the dead, but he knew that he had to be. All of Westeros was depending on the outcome.

It had been a throwaway thought in the face of impossible odds, and then here he was, staring at a sign labeled "Gazin." He has never heard of such a place, but then, he's never been outside of Westeros. There must be a lot of places he's never heard of.

What a sight he must make -- sword drawn, his face and armor covered in dirt and sweat and even some blood. His immediate vicinity is deserted. There's no one to give him any answers, or any other indication of where he is or how he got here. There's only one thing for it. He sheathes his sword and heads in the direction indicated by the sign, in search of someone who can provide some answers. Or a stream to wash off the grime. He's not picky.

[Around town]

He's been here long enough to have discovered that in many ways, this place is similar to Westeros. Similar enough that it hadn't taken him long to get used to the place, anyway. He has also discovered that living as far North as he did in Westeros, he had missed out on things, like markets and taverns. Even the life he would have had without Robert Baratheon's meddling wouldn't have been of those sorts of things -- it would have been sheltered for different reasons. But here, freed from all of that, he can live the life he truly wants to live. Whatever that life is.

Right now he's enjoying that freedom and lack of responsibility by wandering through the town, going wherever his feet take him, before ending up in the tavern at the end of the day with a pint of mead. He's not relaxed enough however to go around unarmed; he's got a sword at his hip and a knife tucked into his belt.

[Wildcard]

Choose your own adventure!

Arrival

[thebrideoffire]

"Jon?" This wasn't how she had seen him last. They had made their goodbyes on the beach, she trying to swallow her emotions and thoughts, wishing him well and hoping he'd return from the Wall safely. That had been the end of it, save for the long conversation with Tyrion by the fire. No word from him, only suspicions of likely danger...and then she was here.

Seeing him covered with dirt and his sword drawn, it took her a moment to even place him. No furs, no confidence, only the lingering hints of battle that she knew all too well. Something had happened...not simply them being brought here, but he was obviously in the thick of something. There were so many questions, so many different emotions.

Instead, all she could seize upon was where they were (or rather where they weren't) and that overwhelming confusion.

"I don't know Gazin, do you?"

Pike Trickfoot - Critical Role

[platedpike]

01. Arrival

She was used to oddities in her life but she'd never experienced anything like this. She'd been in Whitestone a second before but now she was standing in front of an entirely unfamiliar town. It looked to be well built and prosperous by the shape and state of the buildings. Was it a small town? Were there no dragons here? Was she on another plan? How did she get here?

Standing and staring at the sign wasn't going to help her.

Pike turned towards the town and looked around for anything that breathed of familiarity.

She was of short stature, standing under three feet tall with pointed gnome ears. Her small body was clad in armor and when she walked she clanked loudly through the city streets. Pike was rarely subtle.

As she stepped forward she whispered beneath her breath. "Sarenrae guide me."

04. Monsters

"If you need aid I can go with you." She was small and heavily armored but Pike had spirit and unseen strength that could aid any of those who were going into the surrounding area to explore.

It always paid to have a cleric on hand.

05. Celebration

Pike enjoyed celebrating and like many of Vox Machina, she took the chance to relax whenever it arose. Moments like these were rare and should be enjoyed to their fullest.

She had a drink in her hand and instantly missed Grog. "I'm a monstah." She spoke to herself and took a healthy swig of her drink. Grog wouldn't want her to be sit around missing her friends, he'd want her to have fun and enjoy the party.

After a few drinks Pike found herself challenging strangers to arm wrestling matches, channeling a little more of Grog than she might have intended the more she drank.

06. Wild Card

Come at me with anything!

04.

[ofwovenstone]

Cassandra has been thinking quite a lot about Rome. The war against the Titans. The strix. The fauns. And finds herself wondering at the beings that might dwell beyond the town. It doesn’t help that she itches to do something. She’d always been occupied, in Whitestone, and in Rome she had been busy in a different way. A better way. A way she enjoyed. The City she’d been required to find her own ways to occupy herself, and she suspects that this place might be much the same.

But she doesn’t mind. There’s a... freedom here, similar to Rome, that she can’t help but enjoy.

Which is why she’s currently preparing to leave. There are reports of harpies in the forest and she wants to investigate. And deal with them, if necessary. She doesn’t know if they can be reasoned with, but she will try that, first. (The memory of the faun, dying by her hand in order to protect Daud, is still sharp in her mind.) If they prove to be more like the strix, or the creatures who had attacked the City, well... she’ll do what’s necessary.

She’s almost finished with her preparations. Until she hears the clanking of armour followed by an all-too familiar voice. She stills at the sound of it, a complicated, tangled knot of emotions filling her chest. Pike. She’s always liked the cleric, but after Rome... she cannot help but be reminded of the fact that the gnome is Percy’s friend. Not hers. (Grog had been different, a small voice whispers in the back of her head, but she ignores it easily. She’s not ready to trust. Not so easily. Not after Rome. Not after everything. Particularly not someone so closely tied to her brother.)

Exhaling softly, she turns. “Hello, Pike. I didn’t realise you were here.”

Lagertha | Vikings

[ironforgedshieldmaiden]

Arrival

Is this a dream? A vision from the gods? Had she died somewhere in battle and been granted entry to Valhalla to join Ragnar? Lagertha fought to get her eyes to focus on the signs that she was staring up at from the ground. No, she was still very much alive. The Viking pushed herself up with a groan, checking for her sword and any wounds she might have gotten on the way. It was the sound of the portal closing that allowed her to see it before it vanished into nothingness, leaving Lagertha to gasp at the sight of it. With no one else around, the tiny blonde pushed herself to her feet, picked what leaves she could out of her hair, and started trudging towards where the sign was pointing.

This wasn't Paris, Lagertha was sure, but she kept her eyes open for anyone that looked familiar. Any of the men she'd traveled with. Anything. Instead, she found a place that was more advanced than any town she'd seen. Proper stone buildings, roofs that weren't thatched, enough iron to keep several blacksmiths busy for many seasons, wasted on things like sign hangings.

She knew she stuck out in her leather armor and elaborate braids and there was nothing to be done about it, not when she was momentarily consumed with unasked questions, sharply blue eyes trying to take in everything at once so she could even begin to understand what kind of world she found herself in.

Around Town

Leathers had been stored away and traded for a plainer dress, something in the style of the realm she'd found herself in, and her sword suffered a similar fate, finding a home under her rented straw mat. Lagertha was settling, but not well and not easily. This was not Valhalla, as some part of her had hoped, and it was not Norway or Wessex or any of the other lands she'd roamed and seen. No Ragnar and Gyda to welcome her, no glorious feasts.

Nothing but the job she'd secured at the local tavern. If she were to survive, she must eat and to eat meant one needed coin. She was not above this way of earning it. After all, serving an ale was something she'd had much practice in. The Vikings drank a lot.

The first night had given her the wisdom to steal a knife off a drunk to keep on her waist, and the hilt glinted behind her belt as Lagertha stepped back into the Tavern for another night of defending herself against handsy creatures, some of which looked like they stepped right out of the stories and lore she'd so long recited to her children.

Wild Card!
[ In the spirit of not writing three paragraph for each starter type, since I seem to be wordy tonight feel free to set something else up or request a starter for one not included! ]

Around Town

[platedpike]

Pike didn't know this town but she was accustomed to traveling and finding herself in strange places.

She had a small amount of gold on her and she prayed that it would last. She silently wished that Vex'ahlia was here with her bartering ways but for now she would have to get by on her own. Pike spent her days learning about this town and her nights at the tavern, hoping to hear of a beast that needed to be slayed for some coin. She hadn't originally planned to go into mercenary work but it's what she's done for years and she hoped to fall back on her skills as a cleric.

"Waitress?" She called as politely as she could to Lagertha as the loud clamor of the tavern threatened to swallow her words. "Can I have a drink?"

Pike stood out among those at the tavern despite being under three feet tall. Her hair was white with a single braid wrapped like a crown around her head and she was wearing heavy plate armor with her holy symbol resting upon the breast of her plate. She had a mace at her back and thick gauntlets around her wrists.

Daenerys Targaryen | ASOIAF/GOT (Canon undetermined)

[thebrideoffire]

Around Town

Working was easier than starving, acting as a far better distraction for the world Daenerys found herself in, rather than simply sitting and accepting. Stewing was more like. She was never much of a gardener, but there was an herbalist's shop nearby with an elderly man that as owner that didn't mind teaching and patiently showing the former queen what needed to be done.

As weeks started to pass, the tasks became more routine and simple. Gardening behind the shop, tending to the plants and restocking everything in the shelves. When that was finished, she either waited on the customers or ran errands for the owner, as he wasn't able to get around as much as possible. More often, she would be found around the town, her arms loaded with baskets, struggling with whatever door was in front of her or slow moving pedestrian that risked keeping her from her destination.

Naturally, a basket would always slip from her grasp and topple to the floor.

"Would you mind?"

Celebration

The wine was sweet and the festivities were the best way to break the silence of the night. Without the song of her dragons or Missandei to keep her company, spending her evenings surrounded by the members of the city left her feeling less isolated and lost. No, not lost exactly, but adrift. Without her purpose driving her, there was a sense of aimlessness that she never felt before and certainly didn't like.

Surrounded by so many, it was difficult to become morose or lonely. People wove in and out of the crowds, there was dancing music. It was the way she imagined the Targaryen courts before, when there was a better king or queen ruling. It was how she hoped to see her people some day, for now, she would be satisfied with strangers.

"You don't dance?" She asked someone, near enough to hear her over the den.

Around Town

[evil_isevil]

While swords were being crafted for Geralt by one of the more reputed weaponsmiths in Gazin, he was out to speak with the druid known as Bhalris to get some information on certain herbs needed for his potions and whether they existed there. It was the last step before he plans to set out and make some coin.

But somewhere between that and the inn from where he started, the Witcher was moving with a few other civilians, one of which was a lady with her young son who kept turning his head around to look at the man who was quite obviously one of the displaced ones that everyone kept talking about. The little boy was so fascinated that he didn't realize who was about to crash into.

Before the words even left Daenerys' lips, Geralt was bent down and picking the item up that had rolled into one of his boots. When he straightens again, amber eyes settle on the woman as he holds it back out to her.

Elaine Magdalena Despres | D&D OC

[possessedly]

Arrival

Dressed in dark leather armors and armed to the teeth, Elaine stands as so many have before her, staring at the sign to Gazin in front of her. What might be different about this new arrival, though, is that she doesn't really look surprised or concerned. In fact, her fair and excessively freckled face holds a firm and stony expression, her dark brown eyes alight with curiosity and interest. She stays very still for a long moment.

Then she breathes out through her nose. The smirk that briefly changes her face is such a contrast to her serious aura it might as well be a grin. It lights her up.

"No, we're not in Novascaena anymore," she'll say, seemingly to herself in a quiet, somewhat raspy voice. There's a release of some tension in her leather-clad slender body, a slight and natural slouch starts to roll her shoulders forward.

It's a second later her fingers on her right hand twitch, hovering near the dagger pouch stored on one of her several belts.

Then her head turns to the side. She waits, hand still hovering, gaze cast downward, for the stranger she's noticed to make a move or to move on.

Celebration

She isn't unused to frequent parties, but where she's from they happened most often on a schedule. This seemed random at best and although she was interested in the cause of the sudden ruckus, she preferred not to be right in the middle of it. So as the eruption of song and dance and merriment commenced, Elaine made her way to the edges of the town square. Her movements fluid and light-footed, she seems to have a way about her that allows her to blend into the crowd and pass through the shadows.

But she isn't actively trying to hide, just observe from further away. She quickly gathers that the young man and woman being carried into the town center were just engaged.

Tilting her head somewhat she seems to have a thought, and then she rolls her eyes, turning to leave. But instead she's met with a young girl grasping a bouquet of wildflowers, offering one out to her.

Her entire demeanor changes, and the young human woman who carries the premature weathering of a hard life around her eyes, shifts down onto one knee to accept the flower, and smiles.

"You're sneaky," she gives the girl a quick and gentle touch on her nose. "Keep it up," she winks at her, then stands, shooing her away with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. "Go on, you need to hand all of those out, don't you?"

The little girl grins and carries on with her party duty as flower girl. Elaine tucks the flower behind her ear and.. Decides to stay for a while.

Free drinks are free drinks, right?

Celebration

[evil_isevil]

Not too far away, another hangs on the sidelines of the celebration more to observe then partake. Geralt isn't the friendliest looking person, but that doesn't seem to sway the little blonde-haired girl from skipping over him with her hands full of flowers and going to the next person.

The Witcher casts his amber eyes out into the middle of the town square, watching the festivities with a straight face that suggests he's not enjoying himself or that the whole show was boring despite the uplifting music and dancing around the recently betrothed couple. He notices the young woman and returns his gaze forward until there's a tug at his cloak.

His face softens as he crouches, taking the offered flower with a smile that looks genuine. Geralt tells her something, nods with the young girl then reaches into his pocket to pull out a shiny silver coin. He straightens as she skips away and looks towards the young woman before moving to her.

"Here," he offers her the flower. "I'm afraid it will only die if I keep it."

Euphemia | OC

[realmjumper]

I. Arrival

It happened again it seemed. The sensation of changing worlds was always the same, but the lead up had been different. There wasn't a fire or explosion this time, no folding in on herself, only waking up in a new place and being fully aware that this wasn't the world she knew before.

The usual pains weren't there as Euphemia got to her feet. Her muscles didn't ache and there wasn't any sign of cataclysm around her, which might be a blessing. Whatever happened, it didn't attract attention and gave her a chance to get her bearings. But without the storm that often accompanied this, she could only gather there was something different about this...less her cause and more something else's.

There was a sign at least, something to give her a clue where she might be.

"Gazin," it meant nothing, but that wasn't exactly a surprise by now. "What world is Gazin in?"

II. Around Town

There was enough in the city to explore for a time, as the newly arrived needed to adjust. It was surreal in a way that so many others had been brought here as well, which she had gathered was because of some other force (not her fault, not her fault) or magic. Seeing them trying to absorb everything and quickly learn about this place made her feel already on stable footing.

This wasn't exactly her first time, so the city didn't seem as strange to her.

Perched on the roof of the nearby stables, Euphemia had gathered some food (more like "stole", but who is really going to go into semantics now) and watched people pass along. There was one who seemed to be doing the same, but more like watching her. She did her best to ignore the stranger, but the more their eyes were on her, the more paranoid she felt.

"It's rude to stare." She finally shot out.

Arrival

[solus_unus]

Caius' arrival was pretty underwhelming, too, but then for all the multiversal travelling he's done, there wasn't a drop off yet that had a confetti canon and a marching band. It definitely would be a nice change to have it at least once.

The immortal is back at the sign for no other reason than to take a walk, follow the river's edge and see what sort of scenery there is beyond the town limits. He's only been there two days now and hardly seems to share the same look most of the other people have. Caius has lived through this era and is quite pleased to be back in a time when things were, well, basic.

"That's the million dollar question everyone seems to be asking. Unfortunately, all we got so far is that it's in the province of Farsennia, in a land people seem to just call The World."

His voice is hard to miss and once she turns she'll notice a man with long hair, impossibly blue eyes in a dark, hooded cloak that Caius managed to negotiate some work for.

Mollymauk Tealeaf | Critical Role

[mollymocks]

i. Arrival

Mollymauk Tealeaf had been fairly sure he'd been about to die, and suddenly he finds himself sitting on a hill in front of some large sign. It likely says something about his life that this isn't even the strangest thing that's happened to him lately. Well. If this is indeed death or whatever comes after, it's at least an improvement from the last time. He has a name, he has a voice, even if he has to clear his throat to prove it. Things aren't all bad.

And just sitting there isn't going to accomplish much. With a grimace and aching muscles, he pushes himself to his feet, starting towards wherever the sign is pointing. Stands to reason it must be directing towards something. And it does indeed, as he gets closer, reveal itself to be some sort of city. Molly has no idea what to make of that, but he's committed now. May as well go the rest of the way with it.

He knows he must look a sight, even more than he usually does, dirt and bloodstains coating his customary riot of colors, but he still summons up the most charming smile he can manage for the first person he comes across. "Hello. I don't suppose you could tell me where I am right now?"

ii. Around Town

When in doubt, Molly reverts back to old habits. He stakes out a corner of the marketplace, just out of the way enough not to be stepped on but well within line of sight, bright coat set onto the ground to form a makeshift blanket as he sits cross-legged on one end.

And grins out into the crowd as he makes a show of shuffling his deck cards flying deftly from one hand to the other without him looking at it. Molly is much more interested in trying to catch as many eyes as he can. "There," he calls out brightly. "You look like you could use a fortune told."

The river of cards suddenly comes to a stop and in one movement Molly fans out the entire deck to show a glimpse of the tarot faces. "What do you say?"

iii. Wildcard

[ Go nuts! Will match styles. ]

ii. arrival;

[flurry_of_beaus]

She's in the middle of planning a battle and then all of a sudden she's on a road. She's on a road to who knows where, without the rest of the Mighty Nein or Reani. All that she can see if forest and a path and a sign and...

A very familiar tiefling.

Beau stares with her heart in her throat and her breath caught in the same place. They battle for dominance, one beating furiously and the other refusing to move.

She knows Molly has this thing about death? Where he doesn't always stay dead. And she had kind of hoped, when they buried him, that something like this would happen. That they would meet again.

But that doesn't make it any easier to swallow. Literally.

It takes a second, just long enough for Molly to be distracted by someone else on the road, to ask his question, before Beau takes a hold of herself again. She clears her throat pointedly and gives him an expectant look. Like he has some explaining to do.

Caitlin Snow/Killer Frost - DCTV

[snowandfrost]

Arrival
What the hell have we gotten into now? The voice in her head echoed.

One minute, she was sitting in her car outside of her mom's place. The next, she was here. Caitlin could feel Killer Frost rear up in her mind, ready to defend them in case they ran into less than savory characters. It could be anything: a trap set by Cicada, weird timeline shift, maybe even a breach somewhere.

Caitlin slowly got to her feet and looked in the direction that the sign pointed in. Gazin seemed like a good place to start as any to make her way through here and get answers on how to get home. She started walking in the direction of the town, mentally taking notes on whether or not she had concussed somehow from the fight earlier.

It wasn't long before she spotted people and reached out to tap the nearest on one the shoulder.

"Excuse me."


Exploring
Killer Frost scoffed as she made her way through the Forest. Vasari Forest, the townspeople called. How quaint. What she would kill for a Jitters to pop up out of nowhere. The entire place was...for lack of better word, medieval. She had to get out, get a better lay of the land. And Frost thought that the people may not be so friendly when they saw Caitlin suddenly turn into someone else.

The Forest seemed like a good place to start. Frost could be let loose and could stretch her meta legs for a little bit without potentially starting a witch hunt.

"Besides, this way we won't look too crazy talking to ourself," her distorted voice laughed.

Re: Caitlin Snow/Killer Frost - DCTV

[themerlin]

Merlin turned at her tap and nodded as he saw her.

"Yes, miss? May I help you?"

He was a tall man, with white hair and a bit of a white beard that sometimes went away. His eyes were a warm blue-green, except when they were gold, red, or black, which sometimes happened.

For the moment, though, he leaned on his staff, a thing of blackened smoothed wood that was carved with runes from end to end.

Nastasya Crowe | Immortal Beloved book series

[tahti]

01. Arrival

I've lived a long life, and I've woken up in plenty of places without the foggiest clue how I got there. New Years Eve bash followed by a splitting hangover and a guy in my bed whose name I don't know? Check. Narrowly avoiding disaster and waking up in some hospital bed and stumbling my way to freedom before anyone can figure out what I am? Double check. Coming to naked and unsure of where I am? ...half check.

Usually I come to in a strange bed and feeling half like death, not perfectly in control of my senses but with every single sense telling me I'm in a brand new place that doesn't look, smell, or even feel like upstate Massachusetts.

Part of me knows, just knows this is somehow my fault. Like my desire to get the hell away from River's Edge suddenly came true. But I can't be blamed for that, can I? Not after Bernard and Alice died. Not when I just witnessed my best friend of the last century turn into a murderer before my eyes. Not when it's my fault Incy wanted whatever power I have within me and I know I'm no good to anyone here at River's Edge.

I run. It's what I do.

But the whole point of being at River's Edge is to learn not to run, to face my centuries of being a shitty person only looking out for me and mine.

So what the fuck am I doing here?

I startle myself when I realize I've said this out loud, and glance around sheepishly, hoping I haven't just offended someone mightily.

Off to a great start, Nasty.

---

05. Celebration

I hated the Middle Ages. Hated it.

The fact that I've somehow found myself in the middle of a small town that could have been anyone of a dozen towns I passed through during some of the worst times in history does not improve my mood.

The fact that all the townsfolk seem to be happy and celebrating something makes me feel a little less apprehensive. People were so much darker and sadder back then. It was probably all the plague going around.

Some laughing child gives me a brightly colored scarf and sings-songs "good harvest!" before darting away with her friends, and I clutch it tightly for a moment. Happiness can be as much of a trap as anything else, especially when you don't know what sort of trap you're walking into. These people are either truly happy, or they're covering up for something super shady going on, and I'm not exactly sure which option I'd prefer at this point.

My sweater, hand knitted and thick to keep me warm against a northeastern winter, is too hot after all the walking I've done to head into this little town, and it's worse among the people bustling about. I'm sure I stand out like a sore thumb in my blue jeans and hiking boots so I wrap the scarf around my neck, push my hair out of my face (I'm still getting used to the shock of white that flutters in my vision instead of dark black) and paste on a bright smile to match the dancing and laughing folk.

Act as if there's nothing wrong is a rule that has kept me alive thus far (that, and my immortal parentage, but that's a whole other story) and I don't intend on breaking it. Not now, when I'm not sure where I am or why I'm here.

"Hi there," I say to someone who I think looks like they don't quite fit in either. Maybe I'm not alone? "Heck of a harvest festival, huh?"

---

[Up for any other scenarios if you have any neat ideas! Inbox is open as well.]

2

[radishlobbyist]

Not quite looking like she fits in is indeed a familiar feeling for this woman from ancient China in her red robes, who is still boggling at how different everything here is from the buildings to the food. Not necessarily different in a good way but not different in a bad way either, simply on the grounds of nobody wanting her dead here.

She curiously sizes up the white-haired woman whose dress doesn't fit in here any better than hers.

"It is very cheerful," she says cautiously. "Although I don't think I'll ever understand the steps to their dances. Is there any pattern to it at all?" It mostly looks like aimless hopping around to her, if she is honest.

Jiang Cheng | The Untamed/MDZS

[inflexibility]

01 Arrival

Finding himself disoriented under a sigh when the last thing he remembered was being at JinLintai was more than a little unsettling and when his gaze focused, he made note of the sign. At least there was a town and if there was a town, there might be people who could give him the information he needed.

To find his way home, because could there be worse timing?

His fingers tighten around his sword as he heads for the town, even as he watches his surroundings warily.

02 Around town

The city itself is larger than he expected, even if the construction is different from any city he's been in before. The market and people though, are the same in the ways that matter, even if he's usually wandering through. His skills, while useful, aren't that in demand within the city limits, but he finally stops at one of the blacksmiths, watching him work before he steps inside to have a conversation.

It's a job and hitting something, even if it's just a sword is at least an outlet for the anger still inside of him. Of course when he's working, he has the clothing he arrived in in a bag in the smithy although he keeps Zidian on his finger.

And his nights are spent at one of the taverns, nursing a drink and listening for anything he can pick up about the city itself as well as the new inhabitants. He'd tried looking for familiar faces, but had no luck there.

03/04 Exploring/Monsters

His nights are spent outside the city, learning the layouts and hunting. Even if the monsters are different here, they're not immune to the powers he'd been raised with. Stumbling across him mid fight means seeing him wielding a lightning whip and directing a sword with his free hand, his entire focus on the thing in front of him and staying out of it's reach.

2

[radishlobbyist]

Having arrived with nothing but the clothing on her back and a moldy piece of bread, one of the first things Wen Qing saves up for is a weapon. Easier said than done when she sees so many people carrying swords and other weapons which should be familiar but are ultimately of foreign design, leaving her doubtful how well her skills will translate. Which doesn't even start on a cultivator's sword being far more than a piece of metal hammered into pointy shape.

But a weapon is a weapon, and it will be better than none. With some luck, she might even be able to make the blacksmith understand what she wants from fighting needles, her actual weapons of choice, though she rather despairs at the odds of getting those. She has yet to see anyone fight with acupuncture needles and with these, something which is just about the right shape won't be good enough to get the job done.

Thus her mood is rather skeptic, her mind preoccupied as she steps into the blacksmith's place. She is wearing a plain red dress in the local style, work clothes for a workday.

"Excuse me, may I have a moment of your time?" she asks, approaching the man working the forge.

Wen Qing | The Untamed | OTA

[radishlobbyist]

[ finally figured out the canon point I want, so here we go with top levelling! ]

02 Around Town

If there is one thing that can be said about Wen Qing, then that she is restless. For all that the woman is young, her manner of dealing with people is brusque and curt, the manner of one who has no time to waste on fools, for of course she doesn't with her brother left behind imprisoned by their own Wen sect while she was whisked away.

She has found work at the apothecary, and does seem to take joy in the work and in learning about the healing properties of foreign plants and substances. When she isn't working in the pharmacy, she can be found carrying around her medical bag, visiting the poorest who can't afford any other healers.

But wherever she goes, there is always one thing on her mind, one question she asks. "How do I get back?" or "I need to return home, have you ever heard of a place called Qishan?" She searches out maps and spends long evenings in the seediest taverns, hoping to run into adventurers who have traveled farther than the rest of the people here.

03 Exploring

Fairly often, her explorations take her to the places deemed most dangerous for unwary travelers, for if there are answers to be found, surely it must be there? She carries a sword when she goes out, and fighting needles tucked into the sleeve of her arm.

It may be careless to go alone, but she has her pride, and she won't ask anyone for help.

3

[themerlin]

And as she wends her way into the more dangerous areas, she might find a tall, older, and yet quite fit man who walks with a staff shining.

"Pardon me, miss, but do you head outward?" He waves a hand toward the woods, his voice warm and rich.

xiao xingchen | the untamed

[inwhite]

01. Arrival

He can't see the sign, but his other senses tell Xiao Xingchen that he's not where he was before. The air smells different, it feels different. He calls to A-Qing and neither she nor their other companion answers. He starts walking, listening along the way until the sounds of life navigate him in the right direction. A white cloth covers his eyes, but he still moves with the steadiness and grace of a man who can see.

"Pardon me-" He speaks to a passerby, giving it a moment to see if they'll actually stop and speak with him before he contines. "Could you tell me where I am?"

02. Around Town

Xiao Xingchen has to do his own shopping every day, but then he had to do it most days anyway. He apparently had no luck for games and was always losing at the ones his companion would come up with. It doesn't matter. The vendors are kind here, none of the produce is half-rotten.

He puts a few things in his basket, but it's only a few steps before he stops in his tracks again. He tilts his hed to one side, listening before he smiles gently. He pulls one of the larger apples back out again in offering.

"Please, take it."

Yes he did hear your stomach growling.

03. Exploring/04. Monsters

This does not seem like a place where a blind man should be, especially at night. And yet it's one of the most familiar things he's done since he arrived. Xiao Xingchen has spent his life with a sword in his hand, hunting down the ghosts and monsters and walking dead that would plague the living. And he'll continue to do the same for the living here.

Shuanghua has a gift for it as well. He spins the sword across his fingers as he changes directions, waiting for it to point something out to him.

Arrival

[tobrushawaysnow]

It can't be.

And yet.

Song Lan would know Xiao Xingchen anywhere.

The last words he'd spoken to his old friend still weigh heavily on him. Angry, grief-stricken words that he would love to erase. But can't.

He'd seen the mockery that had been made of this perfect man, and then...

He'd made another mistake. By listening to poisonous words. Then he was brought here. Somehow. Just as Xingchen has been.

Eventually he approaches, and that familiar voice is as another nail in his heart. Sweet. Innocent. Ignorant. But he can't- won't ignore him. He won't abandon him again.

"Xingchen," he murmurs instead of immediately answering the question as he stops in front of his friend.

Xue Yang | The Untamed

[jiangzaid]

Arrival/Around Town

A flutter of lashes and somehow, the wish to be elsewhere worked. For the first time...ever. Xue Yang's laugh is short and bitter. He absently dabs at one of the seeping cuts Lan Wangji so kindly gave him and starts wandering down the path towards this Gazin place the sign mentions.

He'll take his time along the way, poking at things here and there until reaching the town. So full of people! Living people! There are some faces that have him step quickly out of sight with a quick little frown, waiting to see if he'd been spotted or if he had merely imagined someone familiar over a stranger's form.

It wouldn't be the first time.

And somehow he's expected to live here. Complete with an assigned room.


Monsters

Xue Yang twirls a knife absently, Jiangzai at his back because oddly enough, his usual hiding place isn't working. But he's lucky, he tells himself with a grin at the beasts around him. He's used to monsters. One of them lunges and he laughs as he spins, dodging and slashing to make the stupid thing back off.

Jiangzai blocks another attack and he draws it, absently tucking the knife away to split his sword in two to better whirl around, getting down to the business of butchering his fellow monsters.


Celebration

Who just. Celebrates. For the hell of it? Apparently these people. It's rather amusing, and he's not afraid to snag food and drink here and there, keeping mostly to the edges of whatever crowd there is. Grinning at people charmingly to ply more food and drink out of them (and whatever else they care to hand over).


Wildcard me! [Feel free to make your own starter or poke me on plurk@ fireduck!]

celebration

[inwhite]

Xiao Xingchen likes that about this place. He doesn't take part in any of the celebrations personally, but the sounds and scents of a celebration are a nice change from Yi City.

He returns from his little surprise errand, finding his companion exactly where he left him. There's a smile on his lips as he slips something into Xue Yang's hand - a little sweet bun made especially for the occasion. He's still trying to find a job, but...he can spare this much.

Wei Wuxian • Mo Dao Zu Shi

[diabolique]

AROUNDTOWN.

A. Okay. When Wei Wuxian wished to be anywhere but Jinglingtai, he didn’t mean this. And wasn’t he just escaping with Lan Zhan? Why isn’t Lan Zhan here? Just as he turns to look for his companion, a wave of weakness washes over him. He looks down to find his own hand clutching his abdomen, blood spilling over his skin.

That’s right. Jin Ling just stabbed me!

Rather than looking for explanations in town – that can come later – Wei Wuxian is looking for aid. Even just somewhere to get what he needs to patch himself up. That won’t be an easy task with no money of his own. Well, at least he’s dressed in black so the bloodstaining his clothes is near impossible to see. It wouldn’t do to alarm the townsfolk. There’s only every other sign that he’s unwell to startle passers-by: his pale countenance, the shuffling, staggering step, the glazed look in his eyes.

B. Once the wound is tended, it’s only a matter of time before Wei Wuxian is back to his usual self. A good bit of needlework, some bandages, and a few hours spent cultivating leave him feeling normal again. So, he takes to the streets, trying to find the familiar face of Lan Wangji. It only makes sense that he should be here, after all, they’d been together just before Wei Wuxian found himself in this strange town.

The people around him where clothing he doesn’t recognize. Some give him sidelong glances as he passes by as if he is the oddity in his dark robes. Even the architecture is different. There’s one thing that’s familiar though: a tavern. Wei Wuxian ducks inside the place, still feeling a little weak. Since he’s penniless, he’ll have to rely on his charm to get a bite to eat and a pot of wine to drink.

MONSTERMASH.

A. The friends he made at the tavern were certainly forthcoming with information. They tell him of places with fantastic creatures and mysterious happenings. While Roselake sounds like the work of some spell, the adventure of the Vasari Forest to the South piques his interest more. Besides, isn’t that where he might find Lan Zhan? He’s known for showing up where the chaos is.

It probably isn’t the best idea. Though he’s armed with his sword, Suibian, it’s essentially useless to him. Well, as a cultivator. Without his golden core, he cannot manipulate the spiritual weapon to obey his command. His martial sword skills aren’t so bad, though. Hopefully they’ll be enough. It’s too late to turn back now. In the distance, he hears a commotion and rushes in to join the fray.

B. The monster doesn’t surprise him in the least. After all, cultivators deal in monsters and spirits every day. He isn’t sure which, if any, of his tricks might work in this place against an unfamiliar beast. There’s enough action going on around him that he’s able to slice a finger on his blade and quickly draw the characters of the evil attraction flag on his dark clothes. It’s hard to see the stained blood on black robes, but it doesn’t have to be seen to be effective in luring a thing with resentful energy. If it works, his new companions now have human bait with which to direct the creature.

WILDCARD.

Choose your own adventure.

Re: Wei Wuxian • Mo Dao Zu Shi

[inflexibility]

He'd actually gotten back to the tavern early today, which is why he actually sees Wei Wuxian when he walks in and while there's a moment where he just stares, watching his brother cross the tavern before he finally moves to his feet and approaches him.

"Wei Wuxian." It's not the angry tone he's probably used to by now, more surprised and even a little happy sounding.

"When did you get here?"

Lan WangJi || Mo Dao Zu Shi

[achickenformylove]

Arrival
[This was not the last thing that remembered. The last thing that he was clearly able to form into a solid thought was that he had been at Jinglingtai trying to prove what had been going on. And it had failed.

Because WuXian was stabbed!

And he wasn't here! Panic immediately rose in him. He had to find WuXian. It was quite possible that without attention, he would be dead soon, this time permanently]

Wei Ying! Wei Ying!

[No answer was forthcoming. The heck with propriety; he was going to run in the direction of wherever that sign was pointing him. If someone had already found him, he would have been taken back there]

Around Town
[Now that things had settled down, WangJi decided to spend some time and look around the village that he had found himself in. The styles of the buildings were different from what he was used to, but in the end, it wasn't too different from what he knew.

In the course of his explorations, he visited the market to look at the stores and food options available. He even went to one of the inns for a drink - tea or something nonalcoholic... or so he hopped.

At night, he'd find a quiet place near the edge of town, practicing his guqin in the cool night air]

Celebration
[A random celebration sprung up one night when WangJi was trying to practice. That was... odd for such a ruckus almost out of nowhere. WangJi got up from his practicing and moved closer. However, he was observing from a distance. Someone was going to have to get him to join for real]

Did you say someone needs to make Lan Zhan have fun? (celebration prompt)

[diabolique]

(( Lan Zhan should have guessed that, if there’s something raucous going on, that’s where Wei Wuxian would be. He honestly isn’t sure what the celebration is about, but people are cheering and the alcohol is flowing freely (at someone else’s coin, no less!). Who is he to turn down a fun time and free booze?

In the midst of a peal of laughter, he spies Lan Zhan through crescent eyes. Maybe he doesn’t realize the way his face lights up when he sees his friend (they are friends, right?). Almost immediately, Wei Wuxian darts through the revelers to stop short in front of Lan Wangji. He grabs the other man’s hands and gives a playful tug. ))

Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, come have a drink with me!