pathemaooc | Test Drive #1

Entry tags:

Test Drive #1

ARRIVAL: Your character wakes up in a temple completely naked except for the collar around their neck. Near the spot they wake up is a pile of clothing that is NOT what your character was wearing before they woke up. When they unfold the clothing they will find it's a toga and that there's a pair of sandals under it. Too bad, that's all there is. Perhaps your character is curious and leaves the temple or maybe they activate their device (accidentally or on purpose).

TOGA PARTY: Eros thinks that a party is what's needed to welcome everyone! This event is held on the beach in the Second District and everyone is welcome! Just be sure to wear your toga (HAHA)! There are large silk tents that are filled with pillows for characters to lounge on. There's food (think Greek) and lots to drink! Eros wants everyone to have fun and get to know each other! So eat, drink and mingle!!

NETWORK:Everyone is provided with a communication device that gives them access to an island-wide network. These can be used for so many things! Send pictures of the drunk guy at the bar, your boobs or whatever you want!!

WILDCARD: There are forests, mountains, marketplaces, all sorts of places to go and explore on the island. Ideas for settings can be found on the locations pages!

**TDM threads can be used as your sample in your application! It can also be considered in game canon if it is agreed on by all characters involved in said threads.

CODED BY TESSISAMESS

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

No lord, my lady. Only a Musketeer.

[Although only is a bit of an understatement from Aramis. There is that confidence and easy to him though, a surety in himself at the moment that is readily readable. Shy is never something that he would be called. Flirtatious, popular, engaging, loyal, certainly, although he cannot recall a time when he ever was bashful.

There is a tip of his head.]

Aramis, and you might be?

Her own brows go up in response; who the heck was 'Sansa'? Not her, that's for sure. She shakes her head, turning to face the man fully but also taking a step back.

"I'm not--my name is Jean. Jean Grey."

The surprise she feels from his is genuine so maybe she really does look like whoever this Sansa person is.

[ Jean has been to very few parties thanks to her powers. The only reason she's been able to stay at this one as long is mainly due to her telepathy being virtually gone. She can still feel what other people are feeling, still move some things with her telekinesis but other than that, it's like her powers have been... cut back.

In some ways, it's scary and distressing. But in situations like these, she's finding herself more relieved.

It's also part of why she's allowing herself a little bit of wine. One sip is enough to make her scrunch her face. She hears Aramis and doesn't even look at him when her words just slip out. ]

If you say so.

[ Kirk is just making his way into his assigned house when his device goes off, notifying him of a new message to the Network. He turns it on to have a look, still annoyed about this whole damn thing. Imagine his surprise to find a very nice pair of breasts on the screen. All he can really do for a moment is stare at them before he's shaking his head and looking away. Then, covering the bottom half of the screen with one hand, he clears his throat.

He at least gets the audio function on before saying: ]

You might want to cover up. Just so you know. Might get more actual answers that way.

"Oh, you'd be surprised at what they might expect us to do." She was under no illusions as to what they'd been brought to this new island. Perhaps she was being pessimistic, but after having been on Atia for as long as she had and having lived through all the curses and gǒushí, no she wasn't thinking overly positive at this point.

Inara kept smiling at the young man. He was attractive and held a regal bearing to him. He seemed pleasant so far and considering what was going on, that was admirable. She was actually surprised that not too many people were openly complaining. Perhaps they were still in shock after waking up naked though, that seemed to do it for some people.

"I'm Inara," she offered after a moment and extended her hand out to him. Even though she was annoyed at being on another island, she wasn't about to lose her politeness.

| toga party |

[ Parties have never really been Jean's thing. Not just because of her powers but just due to her shy nature. She has to feel comfortable with the people she's with to really open up to them. This situation here is pretty much the opposite in all ways.

Her powers have been nerfed to where she can't hear people's thoughts (though she can still pick up what they are feeling) or access her deeper powers. She knows what is expected of her in this place and it was enough to make her refuse at first, pissed off and even mortified. But now, after having it sink in, she knows she needs to put herself out there. The collar around her neck is already tighter than it was when she arrived and she can't make it loosen; not even with her telekinesis. She doesn't want to die here so... Only one thing to do: play by the rules of the place.

Her red hair pulled back in a braid and the securely tied around her body, she keeps herself covered, for the most part, leaving her arms and legs from above her knees bare. She nibbles on some of the food and grabs a drink before heading over to the pillows. She sits on a small pile, watching the people around her as she takes small sips.

This is going to be a lot harder than she thought. ]

| network |

[ The video feed will come on with Jean's frazzled self looking back into the camera. She sighs through her nose before shaking her head (more at herself than anything else), ]

I know this is probably a stupid question but if anyone has experience cooking on an open fire, I'd really appreciate some tips.

[ Because this 80s kid doesn't know how to do this shit aside from put it on a stick and hold it over the flames. ]

Edited 2017-03-09 19:34 (UTC)

I'm afraid I don't know what that is. Is it like a knight?

[It sounded like something heroic and romantic, though perhaps that was due to the fact that he seemed to embody it. All in a simple smile and a tip of the head.

She offered him her hand, having learned how to be warmer and more welcoming to others, in the more modern traditions.]

Jeyne.

"Don't know. I've never ended up in a place like this before after going on a bender," Jax admits. He drinks, sure, but he's never really done hard drugs and waking up naked with a collar around his neck seems like something that happens after you do meth or some shit. It's definitely not what happens after a night of whiskey.

"Never blacked out drunk like that before either. That's the only way I can figure I would get to a place like this and not realize how it happened. Makes no damn sense."

When Robb had been on Atia's island, he had told Jon about his wife Jeyne. After all, she had been the reason why he hadn't been too keen on loosening his collar. His brother had nothing but good words about the young woman, but Jon would have never thought about meeting her. Even less so on an island that seemed so close to Atia's. There was not a lot of information available on this place, but Jon still feared what would result of their collar. He hoped it this was not a repeat of Atia, for he did not wish to have to explain it to Jeyne, and to his sister Sansa.

When he saw in retreat, flushed, he cursed the lack of clothing they had been forced into. He suddenly missed his cloak dearly, for he would have wrapped it around her shoulders, so much her discomfort was showing. He gave her a small smile as she hailed, replying with a small nod:

"I am well. What about you, my lady?"

He tilted his head at her question: "I suppose I am. I have asked around for more information about this realm, and could not get a single clear answer, even from those who have spent their lives here."

It was worrisome how the Natives seemed to not want to help any of the ones that had collars around their necks.

Her thoughts had been centered around Robb, as they often were, yet her fears and sorrows did not run as deeply as they might have otherwise. It wasn't death that separated them, but forces that were capable of pulling in anyone from across time. While she was here, there was a chance that she could see Robb again. All she needed was the patience that Catelyn had to remind her to bear. It was a difficult road, but at the very least, she had Robb's family to help her suffer it. She had never been one to fully abandon hope.

"Well," she responded, glancing about the celebration with a bright smile. For as strange as it was to be in such a revealing garment, she felt warm and peaceful. The wine had worked wonders on her nerves and she was simply pleased to be by the ocean once more. It had always brought her peace. "And it's 'Jeyne', Jon. You don't need to call me 'my lady.'"

She nodded, as though expecting that. "I am not surprised. If we were to have answers, we would have been given them right away." Jeyne chuckled. "The last realm I was brought to, it was as entertainment. I don't doubt that this place has similar intentions for us."

By now, Jon has also figured out that this is an island similar to Atia, and he's not happy about it. Both his sister and his sister-in-law are here, and he will have to break the news to them soon enough. And he doesn't want to have to think of what they would have to do to survive here. And how there is nothing he can do about it.

Not only that, but his memories of Atia are slowly coming back to him. Sometimes, it's a curse and it had made him do, other times, it's a face that comes back to him. Just like in this moment, as he watches a petite woman walk to a pile of pillows with a filled jug with wine. Raven hair and eyes of the palest blue he's ever seen, the sight of her pulls from his mind the memory of a passionate encounter in a back alley, against a wall where there had been torn panties and biting. The image of that moment is so vivid in his mind that Jon feels warmth spreading on his cheeks and neck. There's a name that rolls out on this tongue before he can even realize it:

"Kenzi? Is that you?"

Would she even know him?

His face... Seth stirred, feeling his body more exposed than it had been in some time. The air was cool like the metal around his neck. That was new. However the shape his face was in, wasn't. The last thing he remembered was looking out over his new domain--their new domain after having beat Richie into submission.

Two-fer

The culebras had managed to get two Geckos on the throne. Whatever that meant. Seth only had one job--okay, maybe two. Look out for his brother and get their take of scores. So what the fuck was this shit? He curled upward and looked around as his vision became less blurry. "The fuck?" he questioned hoarsely.

"The Fuck!" he cursed again at the clear understanding of being completely naked. A hand immediately tried to cover his crotch before grabbing the sheet next to him. Once his package was out of sight from others around, Seth quickly felt for his neck in search of any possible bite.

His hand found the chain which made him swear yet again. The only thing distracting him from his current predicament was a voice. 'Freddie!' Kate? As cold as his skin had felt from laying on the marble floor, nothing compared to the feeling of seeing someone back from the dead.

Richie had been wrong. Carlos had been wrong. It didn't make sense. Why lie about--The thought didn't get very far in his head at seeing Kate Fuller in all her glory. "Shit!" Seth scrambled forward, mindlessly picking up the forty-four while keeping the sheet covering his front as hand with gun tried wrapping the linen around him as he moved toward the preacher's daughter back from the dead.

"Kate!"

"I'll go with you, your Grace," Sansa says. She thinks she can trust him. He seems like he's not from Westeros at all and he has been forthright with her thus far. She knows that beautiful things are often ugly underneath but what choice does she have but to trust him? He's offering an escape. It's better than remaining here in bondage under uncertain terms.

"Do you swear not to harm me? I know it must seem silly to ask for such an oath," Sansa says, "But I need assurance. I have been treated ill in the past by those pretending to have my best interests at heart."

Richie groans as he slowly regains consciousness.

It's fucking cold laying on this marble floor, and the fact that he's butt ass naked isn't helping matters. That said, it's not a freezer in here, so it could be worse.

Maybe.

He pushes off his arms so that he can sit up, the sound of a large group of voices all around him, though a couple of them stick out amongst the din. Someone is shouting for that fucking Ranger, and the other is yelling...

Kate?

No, she's dead. He watched her take two bullets to the back, punching out the other side. He heard her voice as she chose death over being like him and curse him with her last breath. Richie pushed that thought aside, focusing on what the fuck was actually going on around him.

He squints his eyes, blinking rapidly before he spots his glasses laying next to his pistol on top of a pile of fabric. He grabs them, unfolding them and slipping them on, as if that will help him see better. Like some kind of placebo, it works, though it's probably clearing his head more than anything else.

"Seth?"

The person shouting for a dead girl is definitely his brother. He'd recognize his voice anywhere, for better or for worse. The last time it was shouting at him as his fist connected repeatedly with his face, his skin burning to cinders in the sun. His teeth clench as he grabs his weapon, the single extra clip, and the shirt or whatever the fuck it is. He lazily ties it around his waist and and shoves his gun into the makeshift waistband he's made.

His head turns toward the sound of Seth's voice, watching as he starts to move across the room through the other people there, all in their fucking birthday suit, trying to hide his junk while he makes his way over to a girl who...

Richie's blue eyes widen behind his horn-rimmed glasses.

"Holy shit."

Edited 2017-03-10 00:32 (UTC)

[Despite having a thing for redheads, Logan has no intention of trying to pick up the girl who catches his attention. She's just a fucking kid. It would be like trying to hook up with one of his students.

There's still something that draws him to her, but he dismisses it as just wanting to make sure she's okay. It's pretty messed up that a kid could end up in this place.]

What kind of perverted asshole god kidnaps kids and puts them on a sex island?

[He sits down on some pillows nearby, a glass of tart red wine in his hand because he couldn't find a beer; and if he's going to be made to wear a damn toga, he needs alcohol. A wiser person would probably refrain from blaspheming the deity who took his claws away and dampened his senses, but Logan doesn't care. He'd still punch the guy in the face if he ever sees him around, even if his healing factor isn't working like it should. The only thing left to him are his dogtags.]

[ All Jean can do is stare at first. That's... that's the man from Striker's base. Logan. His words take a bit longer to process. But when they do, she blinks herself out of staring and frowns at him. ]

I'm not a kid. I'm eighteen.

[ At least here, she was. Two years older than she was back home. Also helped save the world and human race so. She doesn't really appreciate being talked down to. So she angrily takes a swallow of her own drink and has to look away as she makes a face at the taste. Ugh. Too much at once. ]

She'd wondered more than once since Mexico, if she'd ever see either of the Gecko Brothers again. If it were possible for two people to have such a profound and lasting impact on her and then flit out of her life just as quickly and easily as they'd blown into it. Maybe that's why she's not surprised as she could have been when she heard him calling her name. Some part of Kate had known that their story would never really be over.

"Seth?" His name little more than a whisper as she let out a raspy breath.

Of course, in all of her imaginations, never once had she pictured the reunion happening with her naked, a fact that was all too present in her mind as an equally naked Seth started to pick his way around a sea of limbs to get to her. It was hard to feel uneasy about the last time they'd seen each other when she was struggling to know where to look, a vibrant red crawling up her neck as relief at seeing him warred with her desire to hide as much of herself as possible.

She was in many ways grateful then, to hear somebody calling Seth's name, a brief distraction for her spiraling thoughts but she was still, very naked and despite the blissful moment when her mind went blank at the sight of Richie? It wasn't long before she realized they were now both staring.

Why couldn't this have happened in a parking lot or a bar like it did with normal people?!

"Could everybody please stop staring at me!" Anxiety making her sound more annoyed than frightened at least.

Oliver had always appreciated women who could hold their own in a banter, and that he had met one here barely a few days after arriving to this strange island pleased him a lot. He raised an eyebrow, chuckling with amusement:

"Do you really think so? A gentleman would never leave a damsel in distress without clothes. I would have given you my toga, of course. So, what's to say about this not your own plan being foiled, hm?"

By the long look he gave her body, it was clear that the image of it being naked would stay with Oliver for a while.

His smile turned into a smug smirk again as he leaned closer to Margaery: "Of course, I can offer better. I can offer myself as entertainment. I hear I'm quite the show..." Oh yes, all innuendos were meant as such.

He brought her hand to his mouth, kiss the back of it gently. It was more than what people usually did in Metropolis, but he could see that Margaery was coming from a world distant from his in time, and even perhaps in space. Or universe, even.

[That really doesn't change anything--she's still a damn kid--but he holds up a hand to make a placating gesture.]

Okay, okay. Look, I live at a school. I can't just turn that shit off. [The protective shit. It's just second nature at this point.] I didn't mean it like that. It's fucked up that a perverted asshole god would kidnap anybody and put them on a sex island.

[He spreads his hands and raises his eyebrows.] Better?

[Judging by the expression on her face, she doesn't agree, although as Aramis smiles at her, he thinks it must be more that she is not used to it. She does look old enough to drink. Yet, that is from his own perspective where it is more or less from the teat to the bottle, of alcohol, that is.]

Far more body than the swill some taverns serve.

[Although being a Musketeer has allowed him access to some vintages that he might otherwise not have been able to get his hands on. Growing up in the brothel, he did know quite a few of the tricks that they used, including watering it down.]

There are those who say it is an acquired taste.

[What a novel (and slightly unpleasant) sensation. He is used to being known, if not by name than by what he, and his fellow Musketeers stand for. Then again being known has sometimes gotten himself shot at.]

A skilled and trained soldier for his Majesty, King Louis XIII of France, entering in battle both on foot as infantry, and on horseback as dragoons.

[Although Aramis is known to be the one to be sent to court, and for good reason. His manners are quite impeccable. It is why he does take the hand, kissing it lightly, before releasing it.]

Charmed.

[ Everyone is a kid when you're over a hundred years old tho.

She looks back over at him, though, brow creasing at him saying he lived at a school. The last time she saw him, he didn't seem like he could live around anyone. He all but fled from her after she gave him back his name. ]

... I live in a school, too.

[ Jean huffs out a small laugh at that, nodding as she sets the cup down. ]

I agree with that.

[ She honestly doesn't have much experience drinking; not simply because she was underage back home but the last thing she wanted was to lose control over her powers. As it stands... she doesn't really have to worry about either of those things here. ]

Might not be able to drink to it...

Edited 2017-03-10 04:10 (UTC)

Emma let out a breath she didn't know that she was holding and followed August to the couches. She hiked her toga up a bit, slipping off her sandles before tucking her legs under her as she faced her best friend.

"Yes and no," She said, as she gentled ran a finger along her own collar, which was a new addition. I was in a place, an island before here, where you had to...." She looked down at her hands now clasped on her lap. "Have sex every 14 days or you died, or maybe it was 10 I don't know. The details are fuzzy. but that place was run by a Goddess, and this apparently by a God." She laughed a bit.

"You probably think I'm crazy, I know I would if our positions were reversed, but you know that I don't lie, especially to you right?"

August wasn't sure what he was expecting, but that definitely was not it. As Emma spoke he fought against the urge to touch his own collar again. It was made out of thick wood with carvings of whales, donkeys and crickets. He would've liked the craftsmanship if the thing didn't have such a negative purpose.

"I don't think you're crazy," August assured her. He believed every word, of course. And in theory he didn't mind the idea of having sex every week or so. It was the idea of Emma forced into it that gave him the uneasy feeling.

"How long were you in that other place?" he asked. Hopefully the question came out casual.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 5 of 30

Test Drive #1

no subject

no subject

toga party

arrival

no subject

jean grey | x-men: apocalypse

no subject

Re: Natasha Romanoff |MCU

no subject

no subject

Toga

Arrival

no subject

no subject

toga party

/quietly screams

no subject

no subject

:D

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject