goodmeme | TEST DRIVE MEME

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TEST DRIVE MEME

test drive meme

Welcome to the opening test drive of

goodmorrow! If you're just getting here, you can find our game premise here and our full navigation here.

It's a new game, but you don't have to play a newbie! This game has a mechanic that allows people to app characters who aren't new to the setting. Please check over on our application guidelines for more information about how it works. We've also got a summary of World Events that occurred prior to this TDM, so your oldbie can have some things to reference.

Thank you for playing! We're excited to have you.

arrivals | forbidden knowledge | ooc notes

the summoning

Arrivals There is always a buzz around the time of a summoning ritual. Will there be dozens? Or will this time only yield a handful? Will the stakes become dramatic enough for there to be a glimpse of one of the Old Ones, and the chance to partake in their incomprehensible greatness? The ones who believe consider it a day of hope and new beginnings. However, there are much more mundane concerns for the skeptics. Summoning means that there will be a whole new group of displaced folks who'll need to be oriented. They'll come hurting and confused, squirming with the bone-deep pain of travel and weary after hours of hearing about how they've been Chosen to herald the approach of the Old Ones. People will be here seeking help, and most of the native townsfolk only understand how to preach at newcomers. The new arrivals will likely need help from more experienced expats who better understand where they're coming from.

dessicated and unremarkable

Forbidden Knowledge Even after the end of the summoning ritual, many kept their eyes watching the sky. There is always the risk of summoning more than just a new batch of novitiates. When pulling things from other worlds, chances are high that something else might tag along.

A few hours after the end of the introductory sermon, scraps of paper start to blow down from the sky. They travel on the breeze and seem to get into everything. They land on roofs and float through open windows. They get tangled in tree branches and end up underfoot on walking paths. Page after page delicately makes its way to the earth.

It must be wisdom from the cosmos! The rumor sweeps its way across town in hushed whispers. The gossips are saying that the elders want the pages collected, so that they can properly archive and study them. They promise a handsome reward to those who can gather enough to fill a tome, but that seems somehow less attractive, even as something to wish about. Whether deliberately hunting out the pages or accidentally encountering them in everyday life, it will soon be obvious that these are pages full of something best left unseen.

Some of the manuscript pages seem mundane enough. The words seem strangely familiar, as if they might be legible if one focuses on them hard enough. It's just a matter of figuring out handwriting or deciphering a dialect. It must be. A page might prove so engrossing that it leaves a person in an enthralled state, silently locked in a quest to understand something that looks so comprehensible only for it to veer off into the uncanny. This lock might leave them tremendously suggestible to any words spoken around them, their minds struggling and desperate enough to latch on to anything comprehensible at all.

Other pages seem less similar to human writing and will likely create less of a hold on those with the misfortune to view them. The pages covered in glyphs and arcane symbols feel almost empowering their foreignness, almost as if one might simply let the experience wash over them and let it run through them. Those unlucky enough to state too long at one of those pages might find themselves overwhelmed by instances of magical outbursts. It feels like a strange sort of sneeze as the arcane energy suddenly sparks a small thunderbolt into existence, or turns a bushel of hay into a solid block of iron. The effects are seemingly random, but wear off on their own in a few minutes. It's probably fine. What kind of damage could be done in such a short time?

This might be a relief to the illiterate members of the community, if it wasn't for the leathery pages. More parchment than paper in texture, these pages seem to carry something ominous in the rough fibers of their material. When touched without protective gloves, these pages force their handler to feel a glimpse of unspeakable suffering. It comes from a place beyond pain, lighting parts of the mind that were never intended for use. Screaming might be a way to express it, but more often it manifests in an expression of extreme emotion. Hysterical mania seems nice until it doesn't end and keeps a person up at night unable to stop laughing. Murderous rage might be inconvenient for the other members of the village. Whatever the emotion is, it's gone far beyond any normal limitation and will stay that way for the next several hours.

Enjoy the hunt, Revelbrooke. Try not to end up with too many papercuts.

ooc notes

Thanks for checking out this setting! If you have questions, feel free to direct them to the first thread below.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ All wizards have something they are fastidious about, it comes with the territory, and if you look at Gale's cuticles close up as well the pores on his face, it is true that he likely has a regime of some sorts-- at least from looking at them, the skin seem well taken care of.

One would almost thing that he.. exfoliates? And the beard is never unkempt or straggly. ]

I doubt they know how to treat guests which is why.. this. [ One could imagine the mental gestures from here, a sweeping here ]

Do you think that Tav is here somewhere? [ Perhaps highly unlikely-- the Absolute seemed to leave it's mark on them far more indelibly than the rest of them. ]

[Astarion can appreciate a man who takes care of himself, certainly. Those details have not gone unnoticed.]

Ah. That question. I've been avoiding giving it much thought for a while now, because I'm not certain whether I'd be more relieved to know they were here or nowhere near this wretched place.

But no, I don't believe they are.

[ They all cared about Tav, in their own way so honestly. Gale was rather relieved that they were not here, it meant that they could work this out and hopefully return sooner rather than later. He absolutely knew that Astarion was not unmoved either. ]

No matter the case, I suppose it means that we are on our own hear for the time being, and will have to muddle our way around this place to uncover it's mysteries.

[ And then okay, he is going to say something he regrets-- because this is the nature of the beast ]

I suppose I am glad that you are here, even though I am sure that it is a terrible inconvenience to you.

[Their fearless leader and their sometimes questionable choices, yes, they all did care for Tav in one way or another.]

I suppose we are, yes. Left with nothing but a puzzle to unravel.

[And then, Astarion is left quiet for a long moment before he finishes his latest little paper missive to the wizard. Because what. That's... Well. Fine.]

It's horribly inconvenient, yes. But I'll admit that if you're here, then I suppose I'm glad to be here as well. I don't like the idea of you being left to your own devices here. Hells know what trouble you could get yourself in.

And you do not think that someone needs to watch over you as well? Think of all those insanguinated animals lying strewn on a path to your doorstep, someone clearly has to watch out for you before you drain everyone of their blood rivers.

[ Nothing better than obfuscation through a well-timed statement that could potentially be classed as 'derogatory' but is really 'affectionate' because they are idiots and that is a clear and irrefutable fact. ]

Edited 2023-10-08 19:30 (UTC)

Please. I'm offended. I don't bite without permission. ...or provocation.

Well, people. Forest creatures don't count. And a man does have to eat.

Speaking of, should we be concerned about satisfying your strange appetite here to stave off disaster?

[To not have Gale go BOOM?]

Oh yes, that.

[ His unfortunate relic addiction where he needed to eat items of magical intent in order to survive; his own hubris coming into play though even then they had reached the point where magic relics were not hitting quite as much. He was painfully aware of his own body and his orb felt stagnant in so much as in that it was there unsettled over his heart.

There were certain activities that he was hesitant to partake in because of the orb.

But the orb was only a hum, it certainly was reminiscent of itself at the beginning before it started rolling downward like a snowball hurtling to it's own mangled demise ]

Honestly, I do not even know where I would find magical artifacts here-- at least any that would sustain this Orb the way it needs to, which makes me wonder how much Time I have left.

We will need to find a solution then. I have no desire to shoulder this miserable experience by myself. Misery begs company.

[A stubborn statement because he really would be disappointed to see Gale explode. It would be a waste.]

I wonder, do you suppose that pesky Netherese magic could by syphoned off somehow?

[Perhaps by a helpful vampire who would even deal with the bitter taste.]

Are you suggesting that you suck all of the Netherese energy out of me? I did communicate to you that I tasted horrible, right?

[ Has Gale ever tasted himself though? No, not really-- which meant that he did not precisely know what he tasted like; it could be horrible or it could be horrible and that was a sliding scale that was truly dependent upon the individual.

Gale has not gotten the memo that Astarion is gunning for a taste of him. One could call it a blissful sort of oblivion and when it came down to it, he was hideously obtuse as it was. Likely, Astarion would have to walk up to the wizard and tongue drag against his neck for him to even get the message, and even then it would be splotchy. ]

You did. This is an offer out of the goodness of my cold, undead heart. A sacrifice I am willing to make only because of my selflessness and overall goodness of character.

[Clearly that was the reason and not the very pointed desire to drink Gale's blood, warning of taste or not. It could very well be hideous and terrible, but nothing ventured nothing gained.

And somehow, he rather thought that it might just be the sort of thing that would catch his interest. Call it a hunch.]

The self-sacrificing benevolence just drips off you like jewels you're probably used to wearing. [ Gale is not going to discount the idea however, especially with the lack of relics, but he is quite sure (uncertain, really) that it will be something that would appease palate, maybe someone born and bred on cavier of th vampire sort.. he was sure that it probably tasted like smoked something-- ash? He could not be certain as no vampire has ever tried to suck him off.

Well you know what Gale meant. ]

I am willing to give it (1) try, but it stops if you make any sign of disgust because I cannot take that bit of rejection especially after I gave you due warning, if you understand my meaning.

Edited 2023-10-15 21:21 (UTC)

I was a magistrate not a princess, but it is an appealing image. Rubies and diamonds would be most appropriate, I think.

[So you know, if you're looking for something to get him for his birthday, Gale. There's that.

The next part of the little missive has Astarion struck near dumb. But not quite.

In fact, the message will be delivered in person, by hand, with the vampire arriving at Gale's door with nothing more than the piece of parchment, a hopeful look, and a single word:]

Really?

[ They had both been put up within the same area as the group had mutually agreed that everyone should in essence stick together, so the moment that he opened the door and he saw Astarion standing there holding the note out in front of him. There was a raise of Gale's brow as he reached over to take the parchment which he held up and read.

It took half a second, then he was looking back at Astarion. Perhaps he was moved a little bit; however he endeavored to adopt his most insufferable tone of voice, it was typical Gale 'trying to impress that this was serious' and that he meant it ]

I am quite serious Astarion, one complaint and you are getting kicked out.

[ However discreet spitting was absolutely alright, as long as Gale did not hear it or see it ]

Wouldn't dream of it, darling.

[Astarion half purred the words, stepping forward and past Gale -- without invitation, which had not yet gotten old at all -- and into his house, quite literally like he owned the place. He reached back to hook his arms around Gale's to draw him back inside.]

Now, you should probably get comfortable, mm? I promise I'll be gentle.

[ It was not that Gale was reconsidering his invitation. He would not rescind it, though he would fully expect Astarion to act with grace if he did. However the hopeful smile had disappated, that touching bit of vulnerability gone and suddenly he was drawn back into the room, and he struggled to close the door as he was drawn away.

And lock it; normally he would consider the wisdom of locking oneself in with a vampire-- but this was Astarion and also there was a lot of things that he would do as opposed to not.

The room was sparse as he'd not had appropriate time to decorate, but there was a couch before the fire, with a rug spread out in between-- then there was a bed that while nondescript was at least sturdy. He, decided to direct Astarion toward the couch-- the bed was just too.. intimate.

Not like allowing Astarion to juice pack his neck wasn't intimate too but well, one thing at a time. ] The couch will do just fine for our experimental purposes but I do not know how people sit when they are doing it, do I just well.. sit down and then bare my neck..?

[ And gods, Gale was already undoing the buttons of his tunic to reveal that strong neck with those veins running through it ]

[Oh Astarion would retreat immediately, if Gale withdrew his offer, his permission. He'd sulk about it, of course, but probably only to cover any lingering hurt that would bloom. One did have to save face, after all.

But since it seemed that permission would hold, Astarion saw no reason to hesitate.

He did see reason to press one wickedly sharp fang into his own lower lip as Gale unfastened the collar of his tunic. Right, yes, good. This was good.]

Just sit, dear, and relax. I'll take care of the rest.

[And because he could not possibly help himself, he reached a hand out to trace a finger down along the side of his neck, near where the lines of the wizard's magical mark began to wind up that delectable neck.]

[ Gale paused there, his eyes widening in a way unexpected-- at the gentle touch.

Although he did not consider himself to be precisely touch-starved, there was still that clinging need to be something to someone; to feel important. It was absolutely hard to go from being a Goddess' chosen, to being nothing to her-- except for a glorified nuclear bomb with which to kill the Absolute.

Being told by your ex to 'go kill yourself' was not the most compelling self-esteem boost that could've ever happened; but for a single moment Astarion's fingertip traced against his neck made him feel.. wanted.

Ah, but he pushed that ceremoniously away and undid another button to expose the top of his chest, with the light sprinkle of chest hair appearing just within the v. And then Gale sat down on the couch, and it was such an awkward sitting down, unsure exactly how to sit, with his hands on his lap or one resting on the back of the couch.. or maybe just off to the side. Decisions that were inherently silly plagued him. ]

[That reaction was not lost on the vampire, not as focused as he was on the wizard just now. He didn't comment on it, didn't do much but hum softly and watch as Gale settled himself down onto the couch. He watched perhaps a moment longer than he needed to, taking in the other's awkward moment of trying to sort himself out.

Then Astarion took pity on him. Or visited violence upon him. Likely both at the same time, given his nature. Either way, he stepped closer, and then rather unceremoniously landed himself in Gale's lap and draped himself luxuriantly over the mage. His fingers ran up Gale's chest from the very edge of that open fabric, the hollow of his throat, up and then skirting to the side, urging him to lift his chin, to let his head fall back and bare that pretty neck to the predator he'd invited to this feast.]

You may need to stop me, if I get carried away.

[His eyes flickered up to Gale's once more before he leaned close, no hesitation before he found the pulse of that strongly beating heart, fangs hovering for the barest instant above Gale's skin before he bit.]

[ Indeed, that was an act of violence and war, not one that he had been precisely expecting and yet here Astarion was as he luxuriantly draped over his lap like a pampered cat, and gods if cats were not Gale's favorite. The weight was firm and comforting and then Astarion's fingers caressed over his neck, his chin was tilted back to reveal it-- and thus the veins felt like they were quivering with the heart beating rapidly underneath the Netherese Orb.

Aside from a few swirls of energy, his Orb did not take offense. Gods, he would've pushed Astarion off his lap if that were the case. If Gale had felt the slightest bit of energy coming from his chest, he would've-- and took off running. Granted, it would've been awkward to explain to Astarion, that he did not want to explode the vampire but the ends justified the means.

Then fangs dug into skin and he let out a hiss as his body tensed in response; there was tension there in the give however after pressing down hard enough, Astarion would be given the gift of blood.. a smoked copper that tasted of something dark-- there was nothing bright about this sanguine as it rolled onto tongue; it was copper and bitter, an absolute product of the Orb within his chest.

As he relaxed, he started to wait for any revulsion, any sound of disgust. Looking for it because why wouldn't someone find fault with his ravaged blood. Verily, he knew that he was different and the blood always told. ]

[Astarion heard that hiss -- familiar really, in that first moment when fang pierced skin and blood began to flow -- and it was a lovely soundtrack to that first taste. Gale's blood touched his tongue, and filled his senses in a sudden smokey rush. It was not like the blood of any other creature he'd tasted. No, there was bitterness to be sure, but also that taste of smoke and fire, hot and oddly thrilling, laced through with something powerful, something dangerous.

If Gale was looking for revulsion, he would be sorely disappointed. Instead the sound that caught in the vampire's throat was one of undisguised hunger as he sucked and drew that strange and darkly tainted blood in, eager and thrilled as it washed through him.

His hand dropped to settle against Gale's chest, some half-conceived thought of keeping track of his heartbeat so he would not overindulge, but that was little more than a passing flicker of cognition. No, Astarion was losing himself to the thrill of the bloodlust.]

[ Of course it would be that Astarion was attracted to danger-- he should've known that, should've seen it coming that the vampire would not be deterred by the physical manifestation of a parasite sucking out all of the aether in his body. Perhaps it would've been easier if he had been a sorcerer, an endless font of magic-- but this likely would not have happened to a sorcerer, this unyielding hubris of taking a relic inside of you that was siphoning you to the core.

There was also the fleeting spice of the last magical item that he had eaten, something that gave it a taste somewhat similar to curry, fleeting though it was-- dancing on the tip of tongue.

Gale breathed out a sigh as he felt the transference of blood, the way that Astarion seemed to enjoy the taste; well that relieved a part of him that had been too focused on his bitter taste. He would keep that in mind for later-- and while Astarion was giving way to the blood lust, Gale was carefully monitoring the feel of his Orb and if it started to behave strangely.

So far though, aside from a little bit of quickening, it did nothing. What Gale didn't know was that it was starting to grow thicker on the tongue with each pull, and the colour was dark crimson almost to be a few shades tossed from black. All he knew that it was starting to feel rather nice, the feeling of tongue against skin, sliding and coupled with the indents of fangs.

He let out a soft hum, which was perhaps said just as much as if he had spoken an entire soliloquy. ]

[The vampire could feel the blood change in consistency of the blood on his tongue, but that did nothing to dissuade him what he was doing, drawing draught after draught of blood from the wizard's veins, swallowing down the strange magic and Gale himself, a combination that was sending a rush of something he was not yet ready to put a name to through him. Of its own volition, perhaps, or at the very least in an entirely subconscious motion, Astarion's hand moved in gentle, soothing circles against Gale's chest, only the very tips of his fingers touching the strange tattoo that marked him as the Netherese Orb's vessel.

He did wonder what effect this blood would have on him, and wondered still if this would somehow serve to help stave off the impending disaster that was Gale's inevitable explosion at least a little longer. The vampire had come to appreciate the value of stolen time, living in it as he was at the moment. Stolen moments and breaths of freedom, stolen days beneath the sunshine. he was a thief in many ways, but he had the feeling eventually those particular thefts would eventually catch up with him.

All these thoughts swirled too fast through his mind to really hold one for more than a second or two, swept up in the blood, in the feeding, in the Waterdhavian wizard and the warmth of being draped quite deliciously all over him.]

[ Each touch sent a finely threaded shiver up and down him; such an intimate touch of fingertips sliding. Did Astarion even realize how very susceptible he was to such casual caresses, for they were not so casual to him. He'd invited Astarion into his space however, and he rather believed that if he had told Astarion to get out, he would've done so; might not have been too happy about it but well, such was the lines of consent.

It felt good though and he allowed himself a throaty moan, it was a moan that Astarion would absolutely hear since he was right up against that neck.

There was no true sigh of weakening at the moment, but it was rather like a roulette wasn't it? It was the sort of chance that one took with something unknown, where one was unclear of the possible ramifications that followed. But hadn't they taken chances with the tadpole in their brains?

So far however, there was no sign that his Netherese Orb objected to this, and in fact the skin just around the Orb did seem to warm a few more degrees, as if he were a rather substantial heating element. ]

[Astarion had no desire to kill Gale -- at this particular moment anyway. He would happily gorge himself on Gale's blood like the greedy little leech he was, he also did not want to leave the wizard entirely bled dry. After all, ostensibly anyway, this had been an experiment to see if he could help Gale -- to see if this could be something symbiotic between them and not just a pretty parasite attached to his neck.

At least he was pretty though.

He could feel that building warmth beneath his palm, the heart that beat with it still strong enough. He did not mean to make the noise he did next, and yet there he was humming a low moan to the other man's neck, caught up in the taste of him, the bliss of feeding.]

[ Gale knew the moment when it happened; the moment where he found himself knowing that it could not continue any longer; as pleasurable it was to have Astarion's lips pressed against neck, that soothing sucking as the other man drained him-- there was the clue that his netherese started to flutter and it felt like jelly of sorts, a jar of jelly that was just starting to understand the very meaning of motion.

He inhaled,

He exhaled and then slowly his fingers curled against a shoulder and then he started to push against Astarion lightly. ]

No more, I do not think it is wise.. [ His breath was starting to become shaky and he did not want to hurt the vampire. ]

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19 + 2 constitution save - Gale is still good (for now)

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