pathemaooc | 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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's not that this is the least clothed he's ever been in his life, given that there are any number of Parisian men, women, and animals that can attest to his body after seeing it with little to nothing on, thanks to a lot of alcohol, but the sheets here are short for a man like Porthos.

Raising a brow, he catches sight of a familiar face trying to chat up the person beside him, commenting on the vintage like he actually knows something about it. Waiting for the opportune moment, he crosses the beach and smiles pleasantly at their brand new friend until they find it awkward enough to want to leave, at which time Porthos gives Aramis an amused smirk]

Fine vintage?

[Honestly, he's heard worse, but he's got high expectations at this point.]

[It is a voice that Aramis knows rather well, and one that is quite unexpected. Much of this place has proven to be completely foreign and unknown to him. The people here speak of strange things and move with a familiarity of things that he has little understanding about. Yet, there are some things that are universal no matter where you go.

And there are some things that never change.

There is a greeting called out as Aramis moves towards him, one arm out, to slap Porthos heartily against the back. It hasn't been long since Aramis returned to the Musketeers before he had found himself here, on this island.]

If you've been drinking the swill I've been, you'd consider it nectar of the gods.

[He lets Aramis move him with the clap to his back, a token to a best friend that he allows him to think that he's actually strong enough to move him. Still, he's grinning because there's alcohol, there's people, and there's Aramis, which is usually the start of a good night, though he is missing a place to store a gun and a melon to do the usual trick]

You haven't been able to charm better ale or wine out of anyone? Aramis, for shame.

[He'd have better luck wooing a nun than attempting to get Porthos to budge an inch, unless it was of his own accord. Yet, despite the situation, or perhaps because of it, there is something to be said about seeing him here. Although it does also beg other questions, like are there others here as well?]

The eve is still young, but I fear many have found themselves in the similar situation.

[An arch of his eyebrow, as sorry Porthos, but a toga doesn't quite suit you, and his hand gives a squeeze on his shoulder before releasing.]

And at least it is not Spanish. That much may be said about this one titling himself a god.

[He knows that look and he will argue until the sun is out, because he absolutely looks incredible in, mostly in the fact that he's got some very broad shoulders and a little bit of fabric does well for it. The legs? Maybe not so nice looking, given how short the sheet is, which he keeps adjusting.]

If he had any real sense, it'd be a proper French god, the sort you could feel good about worshiping.

[Not that Porthos really worships any god, but he's learning to cope in this place, beyond relieved to find a familiar face]

C'mon, then, let's go see who's got something better to drink.

If he had any real sense, he would be a she, with rounded breasts and a plump ass.

[Not that the end result would be any better for anyone. Aramis might enjoy the view more, but it isn't as if he is blinded by beauty. Just distracted by it at times.

But there is that smile, although Aramis is not certain what else one might find. Much of this place is unknown to him. The terminology alone leaves him confused, and for all he knows, this is as good as it gets. Not that it will stop him, mind.]

Beggars shall be choosers, it seems! Use that nose then, to sniff out a finer vintage.

C'mon, then, before you settle for something Athos would drink in the early hours of the morning.

[It'd be nice to have Athos here, admittedly, not just to have their friend, but also because when it comes to alcohol, Porthos pales in comparison to the man who drinks sometimes like it's his duty. He settles a hand on Aramis' shoulder to steer him through the crowd, using his height, width, and booming voice when necessary to make way, trying not to think about being away from home where he doesn't understand things]

Here, here's something.

[The glasses don't look much different, but it's got at least a slightly more gold look to the wine, so maybe it'll be better? Or maybe he's still just blinded by shiny things, yet]

[He has missed them, missed the excitement and how his blood got flowing. He hasn't missed some aspects, but in the long run, Aramis knows that his choice to return is the right one. Poverty and chastity would not have bothered him, but obedience... He can admit that he lacks in that. And, well, he might not have been the happiest in the long run with chastity.

There is only that shake of his head, his lips curling in to a smile beneath his mustache.]

It was wet and it was alcoholic.

[Which had been enough for Aramis, although he wonders whether Porthos will ever let him live it down. Likely not. Yet, he would take it, day in and day out, if it meant having him around. Not that Aramis wouldn't give as good as he got.

Looking to the glass, Aramis raises his.]

Here's to the moment of truth.

[Porthos is going to have to work on getting Aramis' standards heightened just a little. Maybe it's all that time sitting and praying with other monks, which he doesn't like to think about because then he gets bitter and upset about being left to fight a war without the man he trusts above all others. Still, they've clearly neglected to keep his taste up to snuff]

If it poisons you, I promise to avenge your death.

[Not that he knows how you can avenge it against alcohol besides drinking a whole lot of it, but he's willing to pay that price, even if all the liquor does is give Aramis a mild hangover]

[Aramis has standards, although they differ from those of Porthos, and more like than not, have gotten him in to trouble in the past. He does seem to have a particular interest in falling for woman that he shouldn't fall for.

Giving him a fake withering glance, Aramis gives a scoff.]

If it poisons me, I promise to haunt you.

[The waggle of his eyebrows, as he moves to take a good long swig of the wine.]

[Porthos watches steadily, trying not to stare too much or act too invested in whether this wine is bound to kill them, but the studious, desperate look on his face probably gives him away, seeing as he's thirsty and it's not the sort that water solves, seeing as he's sort of overwhelmed and in need of alcohol]

Well? Am I due for a handsome ghost in my life? I mean, a pain in the arse handsome ghost, of course.

[The flavour is richer on his tongue, finer than the previous vintage that he had been drinking. He will give that much to Porthos, although whether it is a fluke or a keen eye and nose, Aramis cannot say.

There is a moment where he debates playing the role, of putting on the act of sputtering and gasping, but why waste the alcohol? He finishes the cup, and smacks his lips lightly, and the gleam in his eyes grows.]

I fear today is not your day, Porthos, for you shall have to suffer another day of my handsomeness overshadowing your own.

Test Drive #1

Toga Party

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