atonementooc | Test Drive 001

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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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[ It's probably the most Catholic thing he's seen in a long time. At least it's not a hair shirt (yet). Glancing to where his mark is, he shrugs, but there's a proud smirk on his lips that belies how pleased he is about it.

Maybe he's not exactly the right person for penance, when he's not sorry for what he did. ]

Ranger dead by my hand. He deserved it. Didn't very much like the bounty that came on my head, but no one seems to be hunting me down for it here. Maybe because they want to wait until I'm sorry for it?

If wanted posters go up, we'll both be in trouble.

[ He doubts the railroad's forgotten about him. Not often a worker raises his hands and kills the slave drivers known as labor bosses before escaping into the night. And there was more on his hands, not that he'd ever been issued a warrant for it. ]

Well. Goody will be fine, I'm sure.

You can't just tempt me with this and not tell me what they would ask for your head.

[ It's not that he wants to compare, it's just that he's being curious. Maybe he also feels a little bit of kinship, because they can talk about bonding for hours, but there's nothing like someone else who understands not having the same colour of skin before becoming an outlaw. ]

Why? Is he sorry for his sins?

No, he doesn't have a bounty.

[ There's a lopsided little smirk at that, a joke if you will. Rarely does he show anything but a stoic demeanor to anyone who isn't Goody. But there's a kind of kinship with Vasquez, both of them outlaws and outsiders. ]

I used to work for the railroads. Killed two men when I wanted to leave and they tried to keep me there in irons.

[ He doesn't need to know that one went with a pickaxe through the skull and the other had his throat slit with a razor. ]

Maybe he needs to pick one up if he wants to belong.

[ Obviously a joke and Vasquez isn't even sure if he could do that in a place like this, but it still makes him smirk to think of three posters side by side, like they're all keeping each other company.

When Billy tells his story, there's nothing but a hint of pride and approval in Vasquez's reaction. ]

They shouldn't treat you like you're less than a person. They shouldn't treat anyone like that.

[ The 'they deserved it' is clear in his tone. ]

[ There's a small snort of laughter at that. What would Goody be wanted for? Charming every lady he met from Louisiana to California and back again? Of course there were illegal activities they did- petty theft when times were lean, the occasional fixed fight where the "impartial" judge got a small cut. And what they did in private. Though that was no one's concern but their own. ]

Wanted, Goodnight Robicheaux, Serial heartbreaker. Reward of $1000. I can see it now.

[ A frown tugs at the corners of his lips as he hears that pride and approval from Vasquez, the comment that they- that he- shouldn't be treated as less than human. But they did. Everywhere he went, they did. There were laws- he couldn't own land, he couldn't become a citizen, he couldn't testify in court. He wasn't a person, he was a tool. A piece of machinery to be replaced as soon as his use was diminished.

The deck was stacked against him- and Goody helped even the spread. ]

They do. You know it as well as I do.

[ Vasquez snorts a little at the thought of Goodnight somehow being worth twice his own bounty and yes, while it's stupid, a little pride kicks up and he thinks that maybe it would be nice to have the most money on his head, but then he remembers that it's stupid to actually want to be wanted, at least that way. ]

Of course they do, but it doesn't make them right for it.

[ In his opinion, it just makes him want to shoot more of them. ]

At least you had someone to watch your back. Until Chisolm's offer, I didn't have that.

[ No chance to sleep so comfortably, no easy food, not a shred of the respect he'd found in Rose Creek and he misses that. He's not so sure that he's going to get it here. ]

[ There's a long, quiet pause at Vasquez's reaction to the bounty, and maybe he misspoke. Well. To be fair, Billy has a certain investment in Goody that makes him worth that much in his eyes. ]
... Come to think of it, philandering is more fit for a $250 reward.

[ Joking aside, he sighs, and he knows Vasquez is right. He's been lucky to have Goody by his side. An ally and a friend. Someone who helps him navigate the world and give him a fighting chance. And Vasquez hasn't had that much. ]

We'll stick together. Heroes of Rose Creek.

[ And if it comes to respect? They'll fight for their place. All are supposed to be equal in death, right? ]

[ He nods a little better for the $250, even if he wants to hear some stories about this philandering, if he's honest. Maybe he enjoys gossip a little more than he lets on, but no one needs to know about this. ]

Dead heroes of Rose Creek, it looks like. Even if I can't remember how they got me, they must have.

[ After all, he'd rode past Billy and Goodnight's bodies, so the logic in all this says that he's dead too. Not exactly the most cheerful option, but he's walking and talking (somehow), so he'll take it. ]

[ There aren't really any stories to tell. Since he's known Goody, the man has always been a gentleman. The broken hearts he leaves in his wake are more from turned down advances rather than what someone like Faraday would do. Still, no harm in harmless gossip about the legendary man, especially if it deflects suspicion... ]

Probably from behind. You would have shot them otherwise.

[ The man's a fancy shooter, damn good with his pistol. Has a skill with them like Billy and his knives. Unparalleled, and for that maybe they'll have to get some practice in. ]

... Have you been in any of the houses yet? They're strange.

I don't leave myself open to attacks, especially not with the bounty.

[ It's the wary agreement of a man who definitely thinks that something had been afoot and he's not sure why he's suddenly here, but if someone did get him in the back of the head or maybe with luck, then who is he to argue? ]

No, I haven't. I got my orders and I came to fulfill them. What do you mean by strange?

[ There's a loose shrug of his shoulders. Just because Vasquez didn't expect it doesn't mean it happened. Though another bit of dry humor seeps in as he makes another comment. ]

Then in your sleep. You slept through wolves howling in the heart of Comanche territory.

[ The only one who had managed it. Everyone had been rather fitful that night, sleeping in shifts, warding off anxieties of what was to come. The chimes at midnight, Goody had called it. More like ghosts haunting their steps. ]

... They're... different. Larger. Like mansions in San Francisco.

[ He snorts at the idea of him going in his sleep in some peaceful way, but also at the part where he had slept so well in the middle of enemy territory. ]

Are you saying that between you, Goodnight's sharpshooting prowess, Sam's steady hand, and Faraday's drunken idiocy, one of you wouldn't have managed to defend us before I woke up? Cabron, that was the first decent sleep I'd had in months.

[ You couldn't sleep restfully on your own, always worrying about what was coming. ]

You're been to San Francisco? Enough to see the big houses?

[ There's a soft sound of amusement, a smirk on his lips. True, suppose that was the first time since having a bounty on his head that he could sleep. It had been... similar for him, when he'd finally learned to trust Goodnight.

But a frown comes to his lips as he's asked about San Francisco and the big houses. Shifts his stance a little so his hand is on a knife. Protection. Peace.]

Port of entry.

[ He should have known this, probably, but there had been no entry for him. He'd always been in the country he'd thought himself belonging to, but then he'd grown up and found out differently. ]

Show me a house, then? Maybe one that you haven't already taken, so I can take it over?

[ There hadn't really been a solid sense of belonging in his life. Not for a very, very long time. It had been a long journey from Joseon to Shanghai. Shanghai to San Francisco. San Francisco to that little saloon in Texas that Goody found him in. Each twist and turn of the story taking away more and more of his footing. Maybe Rose Creek had been the first place, really, where he'd felt some sense of belonging in a wider community. ]

Follow me, then.

[ He begins to walk off, brusque pace and easy stance. Maybe this place would be like Rose Creek. A community of sinners in atonement- maybe they aren't such strangers after all. ]

The houses are all packed together, like in the big cities. Not meant for farming, but not mansions either. There's running water.

[ Vasquez digs through his pockets to search for a cigarette to light up, disappointed when he comes up blank because of course he'd left them elsewhere and now he's without them. ]

You see a place that has smokes, too? I could use one of those.

[ He knows he's not bound to get jittery anytime soon, but all the same, it's something to do with his hands and his mouth, not to mention liking the taste of the tobacco on his lips. ]

Mansions and running water? That's more than I've ever had in my life. You sure this place is about penance? Seems more like reward.

[ He'd offer Vasquez one of his, but he wasn't exactly certain the gunslinger could handle it. Special blend. Still, he checks his pockets- a small pouch of tobacco and some rolling papers. He stops at some sort of shop with tables and chairs outside, quietly and quickly rolling a cigarette for Vasquez. He knows the gnawing hunger of withdrawals- surely, there's a place they can buy tobacco here. ]

Here.

[ As for the reward... Is it? The houses are too big, too spacious. Feel too empty. He doesn't like it. ]

Perhaps their generosity only goes so far. Lambs, slaughter, I'm sure Goody could give some lofty quote about it.

[ The look in his eyes is practically one that says that if he didn't think he'd end up dead, he might actually kiss Billy right now. Reaching out to take it, he nods in thanks, even if the look on his face exudes much more than that. ]

I was living with a dead man. I don't think that any generosity could go bad compared to that.

[ After Rose Creek, he hadn't exactly had many prospects either. It would've been back to hiding and true, no Sam Chisolm after him, but that didn't stop the rest of the country. Lighting up his cigarette, he inhales deeply and lets the relief wash over his face. ]

Besides, is this the worst afterlife you can imagine?

[ Go ahead, Vasquez, kiss him. We'll see if the dead can die again. All the same, he takes one of his own out- he doesn't light it, but the taste on his lips helps, a little succor to dull the pain on his arm. ]

There's a story there I don't want to know.

[ Which means, tell him, how did you wind up sleeping with a dead body? But no, no, this is hardly the worst hell he can imagine. He's already lived through it, deep in the Sierra's, nothing but dark rock and sparse lanterns overhead. Too much dynamite, and the whole thing could collapse. Paid too little, worked too hard, and when equal pay was demanded, starved out into complacency.

That. That is the worst hell he can imagine. And he bears the mark of his escape, the M burned into his wrist, with something akin to pride. ]

Depends on your definition. Merely saying, we shouldn't get too comfortable.

Glad that Sam didn't tell people it.

[ He is, even though it's a mild point of pride to talk about how much he'd wanted to survive that he would do absolutely anything in the world to stay that way, but it hadn't been a very good life. He couldn't sleep for the paranoia that someone might come riding up, the way Emma and Sam had. ]

What if it's nice and comfortable here? Cabron, this is nicer than anything I would ever have before, even with the need to punish ourselves with pain. Pain's easy.

Nice and comfortable are mutually exclusive in my experience.

[ The big houses of San Francisco had given way to the little shops and apartments of Yee Fow, piled on top of each other like teetering boxes of shipments. Human goods, ready and waiting to be sold off to the highest bidder, the gold mines or the railroads. It hadn't been much, but one upon a time it had been his, and that was comfortable enough. Same with his saddle and bed roll. Nice didn't always mean comfortable, cabron. ]

Pain's easy. There might be more in store than just pain.

[ There were myths Goody had read to him once or twice, from the Odyssey. A king forced to push a stone up a hill for all eternity, another starved and thirsting with food and drink just out of reach. Another spread out across the ground, vultures plucking at his liver and entrails. Is that what this world has in store for them? ]

[ He, at least, still had his childhood to look back on when it comes to nice houses. It's a long way back, but he still remembers the good ranch they had. He doesn't imagine he'll find anything like that here. ]

What could be here other than pain? Humiliation? We know that. Suffering because people treat us as less? [ Scoffing, he shakes his head. ] I don't know how it could be worse than what we already know how to bear.

[ Maybe there's more to lose for Billy, too. Vasquez has never made connections or ties to people the way the other man has seemed to. It means that there's probably more to lose for him. ]

[ He falls quiet as he's asked how it could be worse. How what punishments could be given could be worse than what they already know. Vasquez is right, of course- they know humiliation. Suffering. Pain. What could be done to them that white man's America hadn't already burdened them with?

Loss.

It's the one word that comes to mind as he slowly pulls the cigarette from his lips and puts it back in his case. Loss of memories, of the good times before Shanghai, of the pinpricks of happiness he had found along the way. And then Goody. They could separate them, force them apart so that never again would they see each other.

And that's something that cuts him like one of his beautiful knives. ]

... The home I investigated had an icebox too. And lamps that didn't need oil to burn.

[ Change the subject. Vasquez, let him tell you about the marvel of electricity. It's rather shocking. ]

[ Vasquez can tell the avoidance for what it is, but what's he going to get out of pushing the issue? He already knows the answer of the question he's asked for Billy, but honestly, for himself, he's not sure what can be done to him. The world has already treated him like shit, at least here he gets a roof and iceboxes and lamps. ]

I don't believe you.

[ He does, but again, he needs to give Billy something to allow him distraction. ]

Lamps without oil? Iceboxes and mansions? I thought this was punishment, not holiday. Next you'll tell me there's a fully stocked bar and drawers of cigars.

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