lethevale_mods: (Default)
Lethevale Mods ([personal profile] lethevale_mods) wrote in [community profile] lethevale_ooc2019-03-26 08:20 pm

TDM The First



You probably know how this works, but just in case, here's the idea:
  1. You put the name of the character you're testing out in the subject line
  2. You write a starter (or several!) in the comment, with the Lethevale AU of your character.
  3. People respond with their characters. Threads occur. Friendships are made. The world is put to rights.
  4. None of the threads in the Test Drive are game-canon.

Here are some prompts to start you off!


1. Seeking Shelter
You were riding along the mountain road when your horse, terrified by some dark shadow you couldn't see clearly, screamed and bolted, throwing you. Now you're caught in the middle of nowhere, in Lethe Wood, and the rain is getting heavier by the minute.

But what's that? A light? A house? Perhaps if you knock, they'll give you a bed for the night. It'll all look better in the morning...

 
 
2. The Beast! The Terrible Beast!
You took all the precautions. You carried a lantern, kept to the safer streets. Or maybe you didn't. Either way, you were attacked by something as big as a horse, with gleaming white teeth and a hideous howl.

When you run into another person, will you warn them? Will you ask them for a hiding place, or stand and fight? If all else fails, maybe you can use them as live bait...

 
3. Eat, Drink, and Be Merry
Lethevale isn't all monsters and storms. Mostly, but not all. Tonight, there's a party in the Black Swan - dancing, music, and of course, an open bar. Take the chance to get to know your neighbours, why don't you?


4. Pay No Attention To The Passage Behind The Curtain
The two of you were just wandering around Lethe Hall, when you leant on a candlestick, and... what's this? The bookshelf's opened? There's a hole in the wall now, and a spiral staircase leading down into the dark. You know, it's probably best to just leave well enough alone - but you have to admit, it's curious...





 
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deuceoftears: (Default)

1

[personal profile] deuceoftears 2019-04-05 10:47 pm (UTC)(link)
The man who answers the door (boy, really, Jedao looks all of seventeen) is at least a head shorter than Francis, but he carries a sleek double-edged sword with the casual ease of someone who knows how to use it. The sword is low between them, almost insultingly unthreatening. He doesn't have his heels together for a proper first position, but the quiet readiness of his relaxed shoulders and the downward angle of the blade suggest it.

He takes in the stranger's courtesy, his gentle voice, his muddy saddlebags heaped awkwardly in his arms.

He takes a step back, out of the doorway. "It wouldn't be fair to refuse you," he says, and his voice has a soft accent from somewhere quite far away, but the gentle tone of it isn't too different from Francis's own. "Given that I'm only seeking shelter myself."

The room beyond him is badly dilapidated, and there are a few leaks and a few rotten floorboards sprouting mushrooms and dandelions, but Jedao has managed drag a mattress through the dust and rip it open, using the worst of the hay for kindling and heaping up the rest around a bedroll.
insufficientjewel: (Small smile)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2019-04-05 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Francis looks down at the sword, then back up at the young man's face, and a faint, rather dry smile tugs for a moment at his lips as he ducks inside, shutting the door behind him as best he can. Setting down one of the bags - its weight is clear in how much more easily he moves once its weight is off him, he pushes the hood of his cloak back, shaking rainwater and mud out of his face, and offers a shallow bow before putting his hand out to shake.

"Francis Fletcher, at your service. And I'm much obliged, sir."

He is a handsome man, under the hood and the mud, but by the firelight it's clear what a battering he's taken from his fall; there is blood on his face, and a bruise swelling on one high cheekbone, as well as his limp and the way he gingerly rolls his shoulder and grimaces before shaking the younger man's hand. His own hand, slick with rainwater, is cold as ice.

"I imagine we must be far from the only ones so stranded," he comments, after a moment, glancing back over his shoulder as another roll of thunder echoes through the mountains. "Thank God we both found this place."
deuceoftears: (glance)

[personal profile] deuceoftears 2019-04-06 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Jedao sheathes the sword to keep himself from staring too much, and manages not to start at the touch of his hand. The cold helps, in an odd way: he can tell himself that's what's shocking, and not the contact itself, after so long traveling alone.

"You've been hurt," he realizes, and his voice climbs a little but mercifully doesn't crack. "Please, sit, I'll -" Do. Something.
insufficientjewel: (Alone)

[personal profile] insufficientjewel 2019-04-06 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"My horse threw me." Francis' tone is rueful, even apologetic. He reaches up with one hand, touching the swelling under his eye, and clearly it stings, for he flinches a little. "It is little enough, next to the broken neck I might have found myself with. But... Yes, sitting would be a good idea."

And so he does sit, as close to the fire as he can manage, hoping more than anything to chase some of the numb cold from his bones. He rubs his hands together, blowing into them to work some feeling back into the fingers, and looks up at the younger man over his shoulder. "Nothing is broken, I think," he says, after a moment's consideration. It's all the reassurance he can think of to give.