mourningstar_spam | TEST DRIVE MEME

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test drive

TEST DRIVE MEME

LOOK AT MY UGLY, GRAPHICS-FREE MEME.

While Reserves are Open, there's no one in the game yet, so feel free to test out your muses in the setting here! Should you choose to app, you may pick threads you've done here to count toward activity (if all characters involved are in the game).

Some prompts:

1. Fetching or Vetting. Your character is either introducing an Inmate to the ship or is going to pick them up. Or they have recently returned from this endeavor.

2. Yeah, that rumble earlier? Not a big deal. Just a flood. (You pick how it affects your character.) Let somebody know if you start feeling a little funny.

Threaded | Flat

Now if I could just make a suggestion for the mess hall. I think we ought'a start leading by example here! If we don't wanna see so much violence and aggression around here, then we should start serving food that reflects a sort of... higher ideal! I'm talking organic fruits and vegetables-- maybe starting a garden on the deck. Soy and tofu instead of meats. Vegan options! Nothing has to die for us to eat here. Come on, who's with me?

[Uh oh, he's getting fired up.]

I also think we'd cut down on violence shipwide if we started offering some verbena tea. Not just for the inmates. There are some wardens here-- I'm not namin' any names-- who could do with some calming herbal remedies. Really bring down the anger levels all around.

So... Since this is a pirate ship and all, do we get to keelhaul people?

Prompt 1:

Morgan didn't waste time heading down to the brig once she was made aware a new arrival would be waiting. They didn't always remember what happened immediately before arriving, and either way, it wasn't unusual for them to panic if they were alone for too long.

Contrary to a number of ships she'd been on in her past, the brig was clean and well-outfitted -- neither as fancy and futuristic as Level Zero had been on the Barge, nor did one stand ankle-deep in bilge. The cells were clean, with a cot for sitting and sleeping, the addition of a water pump over a drain for drinking and washing, and of course a place to relieve oneself.

To ensure she didn't interrupt them while any of those latter features were being put to use, she listened before stepping into full view.

Prompt 2:

The Captain's quarters were situated a little differently from those of her last two ships, but she didn't mind that much, but handsome enough for visitors. On being made aware that a new Warden had arrived, she extended an invitation for drinks and briefing in her cabin. The quartermaster carried out her wishes and let her know to expect them in short time.

Wine was not her usual preference, but it was nothing to sneeze at, and somber enough for these occasions. A battle or two sat on the table, along with a tray of bread and cheese. A little fancy for her old self, but several years on the Barge and meeting people who took all sorts had taught her to outfit these meetings with something that might be universally pleasing.

King Charles tittered from his perch near the door, a sign the Capuchin could hear visitors approaching well before she could. Morgan finished the notes she was making on the charts the Helmsman had brought down earlier that day and rose, straightening her waistcoat and waiting for a telltale knock.

Okay, loser inmates: lets get this straight. You screw up? I will utterly destroy you. You're here? You've already messed up your lives beyond all possible comprehension. You know what you did. Good job, woohoo. You don't need me telling you what happened. You know. You also know why you're here.

Back to my point: you screw up here: Utter. Destruction. You want to be a better person, great. I'll cheer you on. I'm a cheerleader, in fact. You're nice to me, maybe I'll even throw on the uniform. Maybe I'll even bake you a cake. You want to play shitty, you'll be here forever.

'kay? Okay. Great. Thanks.

(Marie shakes her head. She wonders if she is explaining things poorly or if maybe she can't believe her own eyes on what just happened and that's showing. She was definitely inexperienced in this area, she could barely take care of herself in her own world.) Look, this is what they call a second chance, you know? Really think about it. No one gets those very often. No one. The fact, you died and well, you're here? Being told you can have a second chance? I don't know, it'd make me think about changing my ways...and trust me, I get it better than you think I would. I've done my fair share of stupid things. I've been screwed over my fair share of people...

(She finds herself internally sighing and it just reads on her face that she is dismayed by this, "Harmless, okay no one got physically hurt, but stupid. Trust me. The amount of bad karma I racked up definitely came back to get me in the end. And for other people? Well, maybe I walked into those situations myself."

The woman then shakes her head. She knows that she can't compare herself to this person in front of her now. She isn't expecting them to agree to anything, not just yet. If anything, her money was on the idea that they would tell her to bug off and they would go back to the fate that had they had a temporary reprieve from.)

(Then she crosses her arms, despite her palms being a bit sweaty and making it harder to keep them on the sleeves of her leather jacket, and bites her lip in thought. She supposes she will have to be blunt now and she was really hoping to avoid that. Of course, she wonders how many mistakes she made that would cost her the chance at having any sort of respect given to her.) Look, the choice is yours. I can't make it for you but really think about it. If thinking about it in the way I'm talking about this whole thing is too complicated for you...then let me make it easy. Would you rather be dead or would you rather be here? If you're dead...it's over. All over. Things you want to do? Can't do them. People you want to see? Can't see them.

Come on, let me help you out.

(She tries to give a gentle smile, though it seems more wary than gentle.)

Look, I'm not an unreasonable man. We've all got requests for the galley. Things we miss from home. I get that. But I don't wanna hear any complaining about the food coming out of the kitchen, okay? We work damn hard to feed this ship, and if anyone wants to start acting like a diva, then I'll make sure the head cook changes the menu to something you've really got a reason to complain about. We on the same page?

[From HYDRA operative to 5th Mate on the Mourning Star. How the mighty have fallen.]

[ Why she's sending this out, when she already got the rundown from...someone? Who knows. Maybe it's a glitch. Maybe she was deliberately ignoring them. ]

This is Allison Young. 091601431706. Fleetwood Python Century: Romeo Golf 3 Beta Zulu Union 3. If you are listening to this, if you can hear me, I am a soldier. I am not a machine. [ Lie. Maybe. ] If you are holding me prisoner here, I do not accept your terms and conditions. I have done nothing wrong. [ Lie. Probably. ]

So, the infamous Winfred Sanderson is to be locked up? Forced to "reform" because the mere mortal in front of her says she must? The witch who was at first confused by the unusual ship and the being in front of her was now feeling her temper explode the longer this explanation went on, of course she was not listening to one single word of it. Her mind was on what she had believed to have happened moments before ended up here. Those...that toe-faced little brat and that meddlesome brother of hers. And that cat. That damned cat. "This...this foolishness! I will not have it!"

She jumps up and slams her almost claw-like hands on the table in front of her.

"Let me make ONE thing perfectly clear! I will not go along with these children's games and I will NOT be "rehabilitated" either! Now give me back my spellbook and give me back my magic and let me be on my way,...of course, after a quick curse. I believe you owe me that much."

Of course, in her rage, she temporarily forgets that she is nothing but a pile of dust, rather something more like the dust created from something that was once stone. She is good and dead. Rather, it would be closer to never existing in the first place minus the story of the Sanderson Sisters that had been passed down throughout the last 300 or so years. No, she was meant to live forever and be young and beautiful. She was so close to just making it to the next day. It was all almost hers.

A few "tuts" sound from her throat as she thinks out loud, it would have to be something simple and easy to do for now. Best to not draw too much attention as she leaves, of course, her expression and even her hands are moving with her thoughts."Now, should it be amnesia or cholera? Maybe some boils and amnesia together? I will not make the mistake of letting you live..."

Threaded | Flat

Sheldon Mopes | Death to Smoochy | OTA

Chase Collins | The Covenant | OTA

Morgan Adams | Cutthroat Island | OTA

Kitty Wilde | Glee

Marie Kreutz l The Bourne Series l OTA

Brock Rumlow | MCU | OTA

Allison Young / Terminator

Winnie Sanderson l Hocus Pocus l Inmate