test drive

[ironwood]

TEST DRIVE MEME - TU SHANSHU EDITION!

Itching to try out writing a character? Then rev up your engines, grab your accounts, and slam your way into this meme! Here is a venue for you to try out whatever character there might be tickling your fancy, from fandom to OC, for as few as one and as many as MANY. Seriously, there's no limit.

How do you partake in this fantastic congregation of character testing? Why, by following these simple steps:

1. Comment with the journal of a character you want to test; put their name and canon in the subject line for added sparkles.
2. Tag around with everyone!
3. Profit like you live on a the back of a turtle!

But wait, there's more! For the low, low price of $9,999.99, you can even use one of our handy prompts when you tag someone. You could even pick one with a Random Number Generator to help decide which prompt to go with!

1. A Chance Meeting at the Turtle's Head.
   Remember, being here causes a great sense of-- well, shall we say inner peace.
2. Haggling Over Something in the Marketplace!
   Maybe someone else saw the exact same shiny thing you did at the exact same moment! However shall this be resolved? Remember: blood is extremely hard to scrub off of turtleshell!
3. Hey, I Just Met You, and This is Crazy...
   First impressions are always the most important, right?
4. WILDCARD!
   Go nuts. Suddenly your character is fighting dragons! Good God, they've found the Millennium Falcon drifting in the ocean! Do you really feel the need to polish every paving stone in the Earth Sector? Please note, Wildcard options are also what you can choose to do if you aren't yet comfortable in the Tu Shanshu setting and would prefer a more 'dear-mun' esque experience. Please specify in your post!

The first comment/thread on this test drive is going to be titled ENABLE ME and it's where you post character accounts/muselists, etc and others (members, passerbys, shoulder demons) can enable you to apply to Tu Shanshu! Come, let us enable you to the turtletastic madness!

Comments

Cinna || The Hunger Games

[afirewithfashion]

[virginprice]

[Alcuin is making his way through the streets with what are unmistakably garment bags- three of them, layered over his arm. He doesn't count on the kedan child that bumps into him, sending him falling over, one of the bags landing in a puddle.

He scrambles to rescue it before the dress inside can get wet- he has no desire to set off Favrielle's temper, not when she has been under such strain.]

Ah, Elua, how troublesome...

[afirewithfashion]

[By the time Alcuin gets there, there's already someone else there, kneeling down to pick up the garment bag. Whatever's in it, Cinna doesn't want it getting soaked any more than Alcuin does. Maybe even less.]

Here you go.

[He offers the garment bag to Alcuin.]

[virginprice]

[Alcuin takes it and smiles, his relief obvious.]

Thank you, messire. My employer would be very unhappy if she had to oversee extra cleaning for a commission.

[afirewithfashion]

With good reason. She'd never get mud out of silk.

[He's just guessing. Most garment bags aren't made of an opaque, dark colored cambric, and the only reason you'd need one that was is if you were trying to store a very delicate, hand-dyed fabric.]

Are you okay? That was a tumble.

[virginprice]

So I've been told. You know something of tailoring, then?

[Ruining any of Favrielle's creations would be tantamount to a crime, and Alcuin would feel terrible- on top of the scolding he'd get, which probably wouldn't be very severe as he is one of Favrielle's favourite people.]

Oh, I'm all right. I may have scraped my knee a little, but I've had worse.

[afirewithfashion]

[He laughs a little.] Something of, yes.

[The archaic turn of phrase isn't unlike the affectation some of the Capitol citizens take on, and the eyes and hair -- those could be the product of alteration, but looking at him, Cinna doesn't think so.]

Let me take a look? Maybe I can help.

[virginprice]

[He chuckles, able to guess what Cinna isn't saying.] And that means you know far more of it than I.

And- if you insist. [The other man is very kind and Alcuin hates to refuse a kindness. He hangs the garment bags over the back of a nearby bench and rolls up his pant-leg. Yes, there's a scrape, but it's not bad.]

[afirewithfashion]

[Just a small scratch, but Capitol medicine being what it is... Cinna has a medicine that can help heal it in a matter of hours. He pulls out a tiny jar of salve, smoothing it over the cut.]

Where were you hurrying to?

[virginprice]

Thank you. [Alcuin wonders what that is, but he won't stop Cinna from putting it on. It smells good.]

I was delivering a commission for my employer, Favrielle. She's a couturier.

[afirewithfashion]

And I've made you late.

[It does smell good! Like cinnamon, in fact. It also stops the bleeding and takes away the sting of torn skin.]

Maybe I can help you make the deliveries, to make it up to you?

[It's the polite thing to do, and he's curious about what's in the bag.

[virginprice]

Ah- thank you, that would be most kind of you.

[He likes the gentleman. He's kind and soft-spoken... it's pleasant. He rolls his trouser leg back down and stands.]

[afirewithfashion]

Just tell me where to go.

[Cinna gives him a warm smile, taking two of the bags for him. He hasn't been here very long, but he knows his way around, and he's confident he'll be able to make the deliveries.]

[virginprice]

It's in the Fire Sector.

[He leads the way.]

You were a couturier at home? Have you met Mademoiselle Favrielle?

[afirewithfashion]

We don't call them couturiers, but essentially. And no, I haven't.

[Let Cinna carry the heavy bags, then. He's certainly a little broader than the slender young man.]

[virginprice]

Ah, what do they call them? And I shall have to introduce you, she's very talented.

[He gestures to his clothing- nothing particularly fancy, but flattering to his pale beauty, the lines elegant yet clean.]

[afirewithfashion]

There are all sorts of designers and makeup artists, but I'm a stylist.

[The best of the best. Not only is he an expert at every element of physical beauty, he's one of the twenty four best -- arguably the best, after his performance in the Games.]

I'd like to meet her.

[He already noticed Alcuin's clothes. They match his coloring, and moreover his personality, perfectly.]

[effective]

[Katniss has taken to wandering the turtle when she's not giving lessons on how to deal with rations. It's not like she has anything better to do.

When she first sees Cinna, she's convinced she's started to hallucinate. It wouldn't be the first time, after all. She resolutely turns her back and stumbles off, breaking into a run shortly after before he can see her. There's a choked sound in her ears, and it takes her a couple of seconds to realise that she's the one making it.

But if Finnick can be alive, why can't Cinna? Why can't - why can't anyone? Katniss presses her hands against a wall and leans her weight into them, closing her eyes and trying to speak. Slowly, her body turns back in the direction of what might not be a hallucination after all, and her feet start to walk, dragging the rest of her with them. She ends up nearby, too scared to get closer in case he disappears]

Are you real? [Her voice is small. She feels small.]

let me preface this by saying I am so rusty and would totally welcome any crit you have ;_;

[afirewithfashion]

[He hears her go running, and he turns, looking for her -- but she's gone too fast. So he does the only thing he can do: he waits.

It would be stupid to run after Katniss once she's spooked. There's no way he can catch her, and the last thing he wants is to frighten her more. So he stays put, and when she comes back, he offers her a smile. It's a small one, but as warm as he can manage.

Whatever he remembers from before, whatever he's feeling right now, he puts it aside. For Katniss.]

There you are.

no problem! c:

[effective]

[Katniss' face just sort of crumples in on itself when he speaks. It's not really confirmation, but she can't bring herself to care anymore. He's here, and she's just going to pretend he's real until proven otherwise.

A quiet sound of pain or relief or something in between escapes her as she all but throws herself at the man, clinging to him] I did it. [The words are choked, whispered] I was the Mockingjay. It's done. [She needs to make sure he knows that. She needs to make sure he didn't die for nothing]

no problem!

[afirewithfashion]

[There's so much he can say. He knew she could -- how many times had he told her? He'd never doubted her once, from the beginning.

But that's not what she needs to hear right now. And he owes her better. He catches her and hugs her, one hand smoothing over her forehead and into her hair.]

I'm sorry.

[effective]

[Something about that simple, almost paternal touch breaks something inside of Katniss. Which takes her by surprise in and of herself, because she hadn't known there was anything left inside her to break anymore. She presses her face into Cinna's chest.] They killed Prim. [Her face is wet, and it takes her a couple of seconds to realise that she's crying. She hadn't known she could do that, still.] They killed Prim, and Peeta was taken, and Finnick died, but it's done. Snow's dead. [And Katniss still doesn't know how she survived]

[afirewithfashion]

[He can't tell her it's okay. It's not, any of it. It was never okay to begin with, and he's just as responsible as Snow or Haymitch for dragging her into this. He made her into a symbol, look what happened.]

It's over, now. You're here. You made it.

[Weak consolation, at best, but it's all he has to offer her. He hugs her tighter and strokes through her hair.]