atonementooc | Test Drive 001

Test Drive #001

Welcome to Atonement's first test drive, and thank you very much for stopping by! Please refer to the prompts below for ideas, or simply make up your own, whichever is easiest for you.

Prompts

Arrival: You don't quite remember how you arrived here. It appears that you're suddenly in a dead land with eerily red skies. The grass is dead, the trees are dying, and there's absolutely no sounds of life beyond your own footsteps, even if it feels like you're being watched somehow. Eventually along the narrow path you follow, you walk through gates that seem to guard a quiet, abandoned town and a sinking feeling starts to settle in that you are far from home and there may not be an easy way back.

The sign hanging above the gates simply says "Welcome to Penance: Home Between Homes" and nothing more.

Within the gates, there are the leftovers of what may have once been a lively, welcoming little town, if it didn't look as if people either fled or somehow vanished in the blink of an eye. There are dusty shops that are still stocked with supplies, many with their doors busted out or left open. There are homes that haven't been touched in what feels like an eternity but they still have furniture and the remnants of the people who lived there previously. Cars and bikes are littering the streets that are in varying shapes of usability. The more you look, the more unsettling everything becomes...

First Punishment: As a show of good will, your hosts will give you a very easy, albeit potentially embarrassing, task to carry out for your punishment this month.

First: There will as few secrets in Penance as possible. Transparency is key to atonement. You will reveal at least one sin in a way that will be permanent, which means via tattoo, scarring, branding, or other permanent means somewhere on your person. For those who are unable to be injured or scarred, there will be enchanted items that will be able to pierce even the toughest skin, cut deeper than even increased healing can recover from. All necessary items will be available at the tattoo parlor in town. If desired, characters may also make an announcement on the network listing their sin(s) for judgement from their peers.

Please note that if the character insists they are free of sin, they will be provided a list of what they're guilty of by their hosts.

Settling: It's time to settle into a home in Penance, either alone or with roommates. There is comfort and safety in numbers after all...

Do try not to fight over housing if you've both accidentally chosen the same home... Your hosts will be very unhappy if you start a fight this early on over such a silly thing.

If settling down isn't something you feel like doing, you may go and explore anywhere that you'd like, including outside the gates. Please be aware that there may be demonic forms of all types of common animals living outside them that move swiftly and silently. They will vary in aggressiveness and tamability, so please keep this in mind.

As a note, all threads may be considered game canon if all parties agree. Hope you have fun and thank you! Game is set to officially open February 1st or when we reach a minimum of 10 players.

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"The Good Book?" Rufus asks, his brow wrinkling- he knows that books are ostensibly good, when they can be read, but it takes him so long to get through the occasional correspondence that he hasn't had the time or energy to bother.
"Which book is that? And what does Paul know?" He suspects the latter is a character therein, but doesn't want to assume.

"It's an awful waste of resources. We could all be fixing this place up, but no one will want to if they're in pain." He rolls his shoulders casually.

Goody looks at the man for a moment. Just looks at him. He is from an era where men of letters aren't that common. More people can't read than can. But even the most uneducated back water hick he had ever known had known at least one thing. "The Bible. Paul was an apostle. He wrote letters to non-believers to talk about his faith." For a moment he closes his eyes to bring the passage to mind. "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body." It's been a while but he knows his books. "Something like that. So if you hurt yourself, you're hurting the temple." He shakes his head a little because his smoking and drinking do that enough as it is.

"But you do have a point. There's a lot of work to be done here. However, what if we don't? What price do we pay if we refuse? A little pain might be a boon to what might await us if we don't do as they want."

The prolonged stare results in Rufus meeting Goody's gaze with increasing confusion, which manifests as raised eyebrows, a bemused smile, in general the impression that he's hoping not to be punched in the face when all is said and done. Thankfully, this doesn't happen.
Instead, something way more bizarre happens, in that this man rattles off something that Rufus can only interpret as cultish lunacy, and once again he feels quite the stranger in this place.
"...that so," he remarks, gently, but with an air of vague concern, "well, ah... I pity any god who took up residence here." He pats his bulky midsection, the vestige of muscle since gone soft with age and idleness. "I hope he didn't pay much."

Edited 2018-01-09 07:54 (UTC)

Of all the people in the world to punch others in the face, Goodnight is the least likely candidate. He rather prefers to avoid violence. There's no reason to give anyone a beating just because they might not have had the chance to read a book.

"That's so. I don't put any trust in it myself. But there are others who take every single word as the Gospel Truth. Seeing as how this is Purgatory and some of us are destined for Hell, there might actually be something to it after all." He gives a shrug himself and can't help but flash that gold tooth grin at the man.

At least he's been distracted for the moment with the unpleasant business he's still avoiding. "I don't know. Looks a might comfortable if you ask me." Must be nice. To have enough to eat every day to manage such a figure. Life on the trail doesn't make for many meals of any variety. "Maybe instead if idiot, you could just write 'I enjoy eating on you'."

"Purgatory," Rufus repeats-- it's an unfamiliar word-- but he's distracted by the smile, and he mirrors it amiably.
That turns into a genuine laugh at the man's suggestion, and the Rufus folds his arms with a shake of his head. "If eating is a sin, everyone in the world is in trouble," he replies, still grinning, "drinking perhaps, but..." Maybe he'd better not go into that.

"...Captain Rufus Basco," he redirects, extending a hand to Goody, "don't know that the title or the place will mean anything to you, but that's all right."

There's a urge to quote Dante right then. Give this man the opening lines of Purgatorio but after the Bible, who knows how such a lofty poet might be met. Instead, he lets the oppertinity slide, this time. Instead, he shakes his head. "Well, then I know I'll be in for the long haul." Mostly because drinking of one of the few proven ways he has to cope. "As I'm afraid our less than noble benefactors aren't going to make me stop. If the good lord didn't want us to drink, he would not have made wine." Not that Goody drank wine these days. No. Give him that saloon rotgut or a sharp rich bourbon.

Though at the introduction, there's a slight sudden stiffness to his shoulders. Captain. Military. It makes him wonder 'which side' and gives him pause. He name is legend. To say it to anyone military is to remind them and himself of what he had done.

However, it is impolite to stand there and not to shake the open hand of a man he had just been laughing with. He refrains from his own military title. He wishes to be as far and away removed from it as he can. But his words still come painfully slow, almost cautious, as if waiting for a bad reaction to it. "Goodnight Robicheaux." His hand is a little cold and slightly clammy when he takes the hand offered to him for a polite shake. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance in these trying times."

"Hear hear," agrees Rufus, miming a toast. His cheer diminishes, however, when he sees the change in Robicheaux's demeanor, and it causes him to narrow his eyes uncertainly.

"Goodnight--" he begins to echo, confusedly, before a hand is thrust into his and he realizes that's the man's name. Rufus shakes his hand, some of the warmth returning as he once again accepts the strangeness and decides he takes no real issue with it.

"The pleasure's mine," he replies easily.

The seconds tick by while he waits for a reaction. A recognition. When it doesn't come, it's both a weight off his shoulders and a deep strangeness in his heart. As much as he hates his name and what follows it; there is a small security in knowing that it has it's uses. He might no longer be able to hide behind his name here. It's a blessing but also a curse.

His hand finally slides away, trying not to judge if this man has known a hard day of work of not. If those hands feel like Billy's, worn from a knife or his, from use of rifle and gun or if they felt like the hands of the men he used to know back in New Orleans.

"I think perhaps I can push this aside a while longer if you wish company for that drink." Plus the alcohol might make it easier. "I'm certain that there must be a saloon in this place."

Though not rough in the way of a laborer, Rufus' hands aren't smooth either; he's no gentleman, and there are callouses clearly formed where he's gripped his sword for the last few decades. There's a confident strength to him as well, and despite the encroaching softness of age, this man is most certainly very strong and aware of how to use it.

"Oh, I found one earlier," he replies, tone almost chipper, "come on then."

Goody deftly takes note. He knows the hands of a man who fights with blades, though much smaller than those of a sword. It's a familiar thing and it's appreciated in this strange place that there is something slightly familiar here. Even if it's just the hands of a man who knows his way around a weapon.

"Did you now? Well then, consider me your shadow. I would like to see what this place considers alcohol." He has a feeling he's going to need it. Plus, it gives him a little more time away from the knives and the branding irons. Away from the moment when he has to etch a sin of his into himself. The longer he can avoid it, the better.

"I wonder how we'll pay for it though. I'm afraid all I have on me is a few bills and some coins. Hopefully gold is still worth something here. If not, I suppose I can offer my services at the piano." If there's even someone to pay. He hasn't seen anything in the way of townsfolk. Just people like himself and Rufus.

Test Drive 001

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