TEST DRIVE MEME

[morrowmods]

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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[nethereseorb]

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.

[reflectionless]

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?

[nethereseorb]

[ 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 ]

[reflectionless]

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.

[nethereseorb]

[ 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 ]

[reflectionless]

[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.]

[nethereseorb]

[ 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. ]

[reflectionless]

[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.]

[nethereseorb]

[ 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. ]

[reflectionless]

[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.]

[nethereseorb]

[ 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. ]

[reflectionless]

[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.]

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

[nethereseorb]

[ 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. ]

[reflectionless]

[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.]

[nethereseorb]

[ 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. ]

[reflectionless]

[The push was almost enough, and with the words that accompanied with it, it stirred Astarion from the rapture of the feed. Right, yes, of course. He drew away from his neck, slowly, but not without a soft, almost apologetic drag of his tongue along the two wounds that he'd left there. They would heal quickly, and he was only a vampire spawn, so there was no danger of Gale being turned. It was not in his power.

He leaned back far enough to seek out the wizard's eyes.]

It's normal, to feel a little light headed. But do remember to breathe, darling.

[A tilt of his head as he slowly licked his lips, to catch the last few drops of blood. A finger lifted to smudge a small trail that had slipped from the corner of his lips, quite happily licking the blood. Delicious.]

Is this where I tell you how vile your blood was? [While he literally is licking his fingers clean. It's a blatant lie and he laughs, lighter and cheerier than Gale had likely seen him before. Actually feeding had that effect.] As much as I hate to disappoint though, I can't make that claim. You tasted like smoke and something like whiskey and power. And Gale, somehow, as if that's a flavor of its own.

[nethereseorb]

[ It was the power to become a God, he had that potential with this Netherese Orb within him, however this place had no goddess, no Mystra to overthrow. He had that possibility and it thrummed and vibrate within his blood. He looked to Astarion, watching as Astarion licked at the trail of blood that was darker than normal blood.

Was that absolutely sexy of him?

Yes.. dare he admit it but it was. ]

Can you believe that I have never had whiskey before?

[ Strange after-drinking pillow talk, but this was Gale and most importantly this was them, and they did not fit the pattern-card of normal what with their artful snipes and jibes. ]

[reflectionless]

[That power certainly could be a tempting thing, couldn't it? But for the moment, Astarion had no goals about godhood. Perhaps something a little more down to earth, so to speak. But mostly he had his sights set on another taste of Gale in the near future.

He was still absently licking at his finger before taking a moment to check his nails, make certain the properly manicured hands still looked as such before his eyes lifted back to the wizard's.]

Really? Well, we will have to fix that, won't we? ...ugh, if the absolute nightmares who run this place even know what a distillery is. What a depressing thought.

[He slumped slightly, which brought him only further into Gale's lap, since the wizard was still being treated as his new favorite chair.] Still, this is the happiest I've felt since we arrived here. So thank you, for dinner.

[nethereseorb]

[ Gale was almost tempted to make a 'buy me dinner first' joke, but he did not-- instead he shifted so as to make himself even more comfortable. He was relieved that he was not horribly tasting like he had feared, of course this meant that he would be getting probably cat eyes from the other man, large and wide eyed-- though he knew that Astarion would always ask permission.

He'd asked it of Tav, no doubt he would ask it of him.

But Gale did not trust his ability not to resist. Though that was not within his framework. ] I told you to stop because my orb was starting to quake, I figured that was a good stopping point.

[ Would not do to blow the shingles off this place where they were staying. ]

I suppose that, if it is not vile to you.. we could do this often. [ What was Gale getting in return? Contact, because even though he would not admit it, he craved closeness and intimacy even if it was arms around his shoulders as Astarion used him as a glorified capri sun (which he totally did not know what that was). ]

[reflectionless]

[What a good and considerate chair. Astarion should really pay him that compliment. Then again, would Gale consider it a compliment to be told how good he is at being furniture? The vampire turned that thought over in his head before shrugging it off for the moment.

He would absolutely make hungry eyes at Gale, after having a taste of him. He could certainly get used to it, and would rather like the opportunity to do just that. But he would ask permission. Of course he would.]

Ah, I see. Yes, that does seem wise. I've never really had any desire for my snacks to explode.

[It was said flippant, as if it was some small thing. But no, Gale was not allowed to self-destruct. Certainly not when Astarion was next to him, but also in general.

He couldn't quite hide the surprise at the offer.]

You wouldn't mind? Really? [He wound his arms around the wizard's neck, all fanged smile.] Why Gale, that may be the sweetest thing anyone has ever offered.

[He could subsist fine on animal blood, but there was something about the blood of people that was sweeter, more sustaining.]

[nethereseorb]

[ Considering that Gale was used to being glorified as a piece of furniture for the usage of Mystra, this was not unsettling in the slightest. So if Astarion draped (and did Gale think it was wierd that the vampire was draped across him? Not really, he just felt like a glorified chaise louge, with chest hair.) it would be welcome, dare the wizard admit that he enjoyed it, it felt rather like cuddling.

And that was something that he missed.

He would never call it cuddling though, best not to scare Astarion off like that-- since Gale actually thrived with the tactile feeling of it. ]

If it keeps you away from my boots?

[ That was a tease, of course it was a tease. ] These boots cost a fortune so you can imagine that now that I realize that my blood is not as horrible as I think it is, I am willing to use it as a bargaining tool.. my boots left intact for a few casual nibbles at my neck here and there.

[reflectionless]

Mm... they are such nice boots.

[He'd pout about how greedy Gale was in keeping them to himself, but he was in far too good spirits at the moment with the thrill of fresh blood coursing through him. Too many years he'd been starved, left ravenous or worse. Barely subsisting. It was still a novel experience to be able to sate his thirst even close to completely.]

But fine. It's a smart bargain on your part. But Gale, my dear, there's nothing casual about the nibbling. I take this very seriously.

[Astarion tugged absentmindedly at the half open collar of Gale's shirt, fingers sliding beneath it so the back of a knuckle slid along Gale's chest even as his fingertip played along the inside of the fabric itself.]

And I am grateful. For the trust. ...which, by the way, is an absolutely mad decision on your part.

[nethereseorb]

[ The heartbeat quickened underneath those fingertips, the casual touch. How could Astarion say that there was nothing casual about the feeding nor was the touch that was the post-cursor to it, how the vampire artfully slipped fingers into the open collar (button those tiddies up, whorezard.) where he could feel the result of such touches.

For a moment, he felt like he was going to embarrass himself by begging for a proper cuddle, he had not had one of those in a while. Instead he merely flushed a pink that complimented his already ruddy complexation and pinpointed to the fact that he possesed so much blood still within him. ]

I suppose that feeding is a matter of grave seriousness, I promise that I shall take my role seriously.

[ Astarion would feed against him and Gale would blatantly allow it, would lounge back and make himself a bed if Astarion desired it. This was dangerous, such dangerous thoughts. Better still to just promise himself that he would make the best juice-pack ever for Astarion, and hope that his usefulness was not entirely outlived. ]

[reflectionless]

[He could hear it, could feel it, the quickening beat of that heart. It stirred ideas in his head that he had no business having, but would have anyway. His mind was his own now, and he would do what he wished within it. And in general, if he were being honest with himself.

A light tug on that fabric between his fingers before he smoothed a hand down to sort that collar back in order, this time fingertips tracing the edge of that mark on Gale's chest, barely visible, but undeniably there. This could destroy the wizard, could destroy them both. The vampire new this, but here he was anyway, still draped over Gale. To hell with the danger, he supposed. He'd trust the other man enough to keep that power in control for now.]

How refreshing to hear. I'm beginning to appreciate knowing you, my dear, as more than just a handsome face.

[nethereseorb]

[ Ah, there it was-- the usefulness.

He could not help the slightly unsettled feeling that brought about. He'd been useful to Mystra up until his curiosity got in the way of things; and he was fairly certain that Mystra was currently with her next wizard flavor of the moment; and when would he stop being useful to Astarion?

Something shifted in Gale's demeanor, from being happy for the intimacy to feeling the weight of what he brought to the literal table (dinner) for Astarion. But he supposed that was his lot in life and that he deserved such a thing, he had been a tool for as long as he could remember and tools did not just turn into things that could be loved, now did they? They were objects with functionality.

He reached up to rub his thumb over the marks that were left by the feeding. He had not exploded and that was a good thing however he did shift once Astarion pulled collar back into place. ] I should probably ah, eat something and then go to bed however I will be more than happy to be of service to you if you cannot find any other arrangement.

[ Service, he could speak in those terms-- he was good at acts of service, wasn't he. ]