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ironwood) wrote in
tushanshu_ooc2013-06-29 12:39 pm
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Entry tags:
test drive!

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:
- Comment with the journal of a character you want to test; put their name and canon in the subject line for added sparkles.
- Tag around with everyone!
- 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!
- A Chance Meeting at the Turtle's Head.
Remember, being here causes a great sense of-- well, shall we say inner peace. - 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! - Hey, I Just Met You, and This is Crazy...
First impressions are always the most important, right? - 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!
WELL YEAH
Are you sure?
What's your name, if you don't mind my asking?
YOU DID THIS TO YOURSELF
He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at her.]
Oliver Queen.
I REGRET NOTHING
Well, at least now I know you were serious when you claimed to not know me.
Word of advice, pal: if you're going to come up with a fake alias, you might want to check and make sure you're not doing it to the man in question's own mother.
no subject
Moira Queen. You married to Robert Henry Queen, founder of Queen Industries, when he left the military. He made his fortune selling weapons and ammo to third world countries. I changed that, by the way. He gave me a little bow and arrow set one Christmas. I killed a rabbit and swore I'd never use them again. That changed too. You make the best damn chili in the world, and that'll never change.
no subject
[Well, that--]
[And he--]
[What kind of trickery was this?]
So you have done your research. [Her voice is calm. Reserved. Still not sure what to make of this, or what this stranger is trying to convince her of.] Though you've got one or two facts wrong. Oliver's never picked up a bow and arrow in his life. I'm not sure he'd even know what to do with one if he saw it.
And I'm fairly certain his sister would have banned me from the kitchen by now if Walter hadn't intervened. [Though that was moreso a typical rebellious teenage daughter tease than actual reflection of her cooking skills.]
no subject
[And that his mother had never made it to his age, but he's convinced the similarity in demeanor and looks that she's not lying. Ollie reaches into his back pocket and retrieves his wallet. It's useless, here, but carrying it is such an engrained habit that he can't give it up. Besides, it holds money the same.
It's still full of his cards, however - driver's license, credit cards, health insurance - you name it, it's in there. He tosses it at her.]
Research is knowing that the old man was descended from the Earl of Dornee. I'm sure he broke out the family legend for you.
no subject
[And his information. He was starting to rattle off things that she was certain even her Oliver hadn't known.]
I don't...understand.
[She still couldn't quite believe it, but the chances of this man being an imposter were shrinking minute by minute.]
What are you trying to say? That you're my son?
You can't be. Oliver's not even thirty yet.
no subject
But he's not thirty anymore, and his mother never came back.]
No. I'm not yours, but I am Oliver Queen.
[This was about all he could take. Ollie plucked the billfold from her hands. If he kept up this conversation, he was going to ask what changed about that safari.]
Still don't believe me? Go use your fancy little computer. You'll get all the confirmation you'd ever need.
no subject
[She hasn't even been to her so-called 'suite' yet.]
Oliver--[It takes her a moment to recover from that, but she does, and continues on]--tell me, please. What is going on?
no subject
[He gives her a quizzical look. Most people have been here longer than he has, and the kedan tend to dump people on their doorstep and leave them to fend for themselves.]
Are you telling me they didn't even take you home? They just threw you out on the street?
[No one does that to his family. Oliver starts walking immediately, thinks better of it, grabs her and starts walking again.]
C'mon. We're going to have a little chat at the palace.
no subject
Oliver, please.
This is no time for you to be freaking out. I think I've more than claimed the right to that one already.
[Temples. Rubbed. Breath. Deep.]
[Okay, let's try that again.]
The only people who are going to have a little chat are you and me. Right here, right now.
So start talking.
no subject
[He has worked himself up to seething by the end of this.]
no subject
[By the time he's done, she could feel the anger in the air, radiating off him in waves. It took several heartbeats because she could swallow loudly enough to, in an eerily calm voice, counter. Her expression darkened.]
[Son or no son, he had no right to speak to her that way.]
How about we 'chat' about these circumstances that you're suddenly seeing fit to yell at me about.
How about we 'chat' about the fact that, yes, I was led outside the...palace, or whatever it was...shortly after my arrival, with directions and a small pocket full of currency, but little in the way of explanation.
Or, how about we 'chat' about the fact that, for all I know, you are a stranger with my son's name and the absolute worst of his bad habits, screaming at me and pulling at my arm like you expect me to just go along with wherever it was you were planning on taking me.
Sentimentality can come later, Oliver. Right now, all I want are answers, and--against my better judgement--I'd really rather get them from you, than from somebody who's a complete stranger.
no subject
Fine. Here's your explanation. You've been pulled into a pocket universe that exists in the state between life and death. You're trapped on an island on the back of a turtle, in a city full of Asian fascist aliens, with no way of getting home and no goddamn clue how to defend yourself, so now I've got to keep an eye on you when I've got a list of teenagers three pages long that I know the parents and mentors of, who are going to hunt me across time and space to put my head on a pike if we don't get them home safely.
Not that I expect you to understand ANY of this, because apparently you're from a world where apparently I'm in my 20s and you're... you.
[His voice has tapered down from shouting to something approaching hesitant.]
And those are some of my better habits. Don't lie.
no subject
[Okay, maybe it explains a little bit. But not to her complete satisfaction.]
...I suppose it does beat forgetting to tell me you dropped out of college by a slim margin.
[She does almost smile at this point. Almost. If only because she's starting to feel as worn as he, and all this shouting was clearly getting them nowhere. Her tone was still stiff, though the hostility had faded into more of a dull annoyance.]
And I would appreciate you not treating me like a teenager. You might not be in your twenties, but neither am I. I am fully capable of taking care of myself.
[Not many Starling City 1%ers had come face to shadow with The Hood and lived to tell the tale, after all.]
no subject
[But he isn't yelling anymore. He's getting too old for this, he thinks. Maybe he should start getting his blood pressure checked more regularly, because it has to spike when he gets moving on all cylinders. If he has a heart attack, Connor, Dinah, and Mia are going to take away beef and control the food shopping.
Nah. Roy will slip him burgers. It'll be fine.]
I'm not treating you like a teenager, but there are roving street gangs in this city. I'm not about to let you get killed.
[Not again. The words are just there, in his head unbidden, even as the sentence is leaving his mouth. He can't hide the cringe.]
no subject
[They never did get around to that discussion. Not long after he'd dropped that bombshell on her, he and his father had sailed off into the sunset. One of them, never to be seen again. The other...returning from the dead nearly five years later.]
You are treating me like a teenager.
I've spent my fair share of time in the Glades, Oliver. I'm not exactly going to go wandering around any dark alleys in the middle of the night. [And here, her voice saddens.] I still remember what happened to Tommy's mother, after all.
no subject
[He checks himself, for once. She's not from his universe, she's still alive, and she had a daughter named Thea. There was no guarantee the boating accident had even happened.]
Boating accident. I got stranded on an island in the Fijis for a few years, so I'm sorry if I didn't make it in time for senior year.
[He's clearly not sorry at all.]
You're treating me like a child.
no subject
I'd be more willing to believe that if you hadn't dropped out before you and your father went off on the Queen's Gambit.
[In other words, yes, the boating accident happened. Possibly not in the same manner, but it did happen. And she was not surprised that it happened to him as well, going by the current direction of this conversation. More and more parallels were surfacing.]
Because you are my child. Apparently. [As difficult as this still was to believe.] If you really are Oliver, then you'll always be my son. No matter how old and jaded you become.
no subject
[There might be parallels, but the fact that he's even having this conversation right now is a huge break in the commonalities. But her statement hits him hard, like a sucker punch in the gut. Not his world, not his mother, not his problem.
Nothing like lying to yourself, old man.]
Watch who you're calling old, or I'm going to break out 'elderly.'
no subject
[A pause. He had come back to her, changed--possibly even for the better--but it was still so difficult to think back to that fateful day. Knowing what she did now about the circumstances.]
...you do have a sister. [Change of subject. Thea, she could handle. In this capacity, anyways.] Her name is Thea. She's eighteen, absolutely adores you sometimes, and the two of you are more alike than either of you will ever be able to admit.
I remember...you used to call her Speedy. Before the accident. You still do sometimes.
[A pause, and this time, she does smile. Talking about her family, however broken, had that effect on her.]
Apparently, whoever I was where you come from never taught you how rude it is to comment on a woman's age.
no subject
[He's been trying not to say that, but there's only so long that he can hold his tongue. Holding it at all is a tremendous accomplishment, and it's only because she's his mother that she got that much consideration.]
And Speedy was never a girl named Thea. Speedy was after the accident, and it was a kid named Roy. He earned that nickname - it's not just something I pulled out of a crackerjack box to annoy a damn kid sister who never existed.
no subject
[She couldn't even process the thought of Robert having died years before. All of this was getting to be too much. The man was Oliver, but not. His life was similar, and yet so different.]
[What was going on?]