theodeon | Test Drive Meme #1

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Test Drive Meme #1

A Choice to Make

In the midst of your mundane existence, amidst a meal's consumption or perhaps amidst a desperate struggle for survival, you find yourself teetering on the precipice between consciousness and oblivion. Whether it's the mundanity of everyday life or the shock of an unforeseen revelation, the next chapter in your tale is etched in the unfathomable tapestry of destiny. Abruptly, a shimmering azure tear in reality wrenches you from your reality, hurling you into the depths of a foreboding cavern. Within its shadows, two sinister whispers assail your senses, each vying for control over the path you must tread. One beckons from the left, promising dominion and power under the aegis of an enigmatic ruler, while the other lures from the right, pledging a noble crusade for justice and salvation. With each step, the choice you make echoes with the weight of eternity, determining the very fabric of your existence

As you stand at the crossroads of fate, the air thickens with anticipation, suffused with a palpable sense of ominous uncertainty. The leftward passage glimmers with an otherworldly allure, hinting at the seductive allure of authority and supremacy. Yet, the rightward path beckons with an ethereal glow, resonating with the righteous fervor of a hero's quest to vanquish darkness. Each voice, a siren's call to divergent destinies, casts its spell upon your soul, weaving a labyrinth of moral ambiguity. For in this twilight realm where the veil between worlds grows thin, your decision is not merely a choice but a covenant with forces beyond mortal comprehension. Whichever path you elect to traverse, know that the consequences shall echo through eternity, shaping the very essence of your being in ways unfathomable to mortal minds.

Evil

Emerging from the left tunnel, you step into a labyrinthine city carved from the very bones of the earth, illuminated by flickering torchlight that casts eerie shadows upon the twisted visages of its denizens. Monsters, grotesque and malformed, roam the streets with a purpose that sends shivers down your spine. It becomes chillingly apparent that within this infernal metropolis, your destiny lies entwined with a bid for power at the side of a shadowy sovereign. Amidst the clamor of preparation, the temple to the enigmatic entity known as the First Evil looms ominously, its dark allure drawing in supplicants like moths to a flame. Should your throat grow parched from the fervent chants of devotion, the Cantina offers solace in its crude embrace, a sanctuary that exudes an aura of ancient malevolence amidst its clay and stone walls.

Yet, amidst the sinister ambiance, whispers of knowledge beckon, promising insight into the machinations of this unholy realm. Seekers of truth may find guidance from well-intentioned demons or delve into the esoteric depths of the Stacks, where secrets lie entombed within dusty tomes of forgotten lore. As curiosity compels you to explore further, the Bringers, sinister heralds of the impending darkness, stand ready to lead you to your abode, a cold stone sanctuary where dreams are haunted by the specter of impending conflict. And for those who prefer the solace of steel and the embrace of weaponry, the armory awaits, a chamber resonant with the echoes of impending strife, offering a grim reminder that in this realm, even sleep is fraught with the specter of violence.

2. Good

Venturing through the right-hand tunnel was a pact, a commitment to a harrowing struggle that now unfolds before you. Emerging into the realm beyond, you are met by a spectral figure, a girl whose countenance shifts with each passing moment, a testament to the legion of vampire slayers that populate this accursed domain. She, like her brethren, is both warrior and guide, leading you through the labyrinthine streets with a cryptic explanation that betrays the gravity of the task ahead. Together, you traverse the shadowed avenues, passing landmarks cloaked in enigma, such as The Odeon, a den of debauchery where the echoes of revelry mingle with the cries of the damned. With a sardonic grin, she points towards the gym, a crucible where the art of combat is honed amidst the backdrop of impending doom.

As you journey further into the heart of darkness, the Resurrection Cemetery looms ominously, a sepulchral sentinel guarding the threshold of a towering edifice—the colossal teaching hospital that casts a pall of dread over the surrounding streets. Amidst a labyrinth of silence and apprehension, you arrive at your destination, standing before the facade of the Doubletree Hotel, its ostentatious glamour a stark juxtaposition against the encroaching shadows of desolation. Yet, even as the hotel's opulence beckons, a lingering sense of foreboding whispers tales of recent upheaval, hinting at secrets buried beneath layers of opulent facade.

A Grave to Dig – Resurrection Cemetery

Patrol, it's the nightly routine for slayers, a dance with darkness amidst the tombstones, where the soulless minions of evil lurk in the shadows, ever loyal to the malevolent machinations of The First Evil. A cemetery of this magnitude, its layout intricate and labyrinthine, serves as the perfect battleground for the eternal struggle against the forces of darkness. But it is patrol, right? Surely you're not taking a detour to The Odeon without your trusty stake and crossbow. Strange choices in these perilous times, indeed.

This graveyard pulses with the heartbeat of vampiric activity tonight, more undead rising from their graves than ever before. Will you recruit them into the fold of darkness, their loyalty pledged to The First? Or will you stand as their nemesis, driving a stake through their unbeating hearts? The choice looms before you, a decision that could tip the scales of this eternal conflict, determining whether you become their savior or their midnight snack.

A Party to Crash – The Odeon

Amidst the haunting melodies of an otherworldly band, The Odeon pulsates with the feverish energy of revelers seeking solace in food, drink, and a hell of a time. At the jumpstart of the bash, there’s no doubt you'll get to soak up some of that vibe. But lurking amidst the revelry, there's more than just party plans brewing.

If you've been getting those Slayer senses tinglin' 'bout the graveyard gig, hold onto your stakes 'cause The Odeon's gonna be jumpin' too. Within the shadowed halls of The Odeon, a palpable tension lingers, as The First Evil's malevolent design looms ominously over the unsuspecting patrons. In this twilight realm where the line between good and evil blurs, the clash between opposing forces is inevitable, and it's here, amidst the haunting melodies and whispered secrets, that the true test of one's training and arcane talents shall unfold.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You're really good." Quick and graceful, for a man of his stature, he steps into her as she comes off the stage. A hand held out to catch hers and help her step down. Ashley wasn't the sort to be shy or play coy and he had been very obviously watching her. Like he is now.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Ash lingered in her space. Not touching her but it wouldn't take much. He wanted to reach out with his gifts to figure her out, poke around a little. Like her he doesn't. The song lyrics told him enough. Standing this close to her tells him the rest. She doesn't carry the kind of corruption that triggers the wolf to react.

Diana accepted the hand down, even if she didn't really need it. As much as she enjoyed having rights and not being traded around like property, there were days when she missed old-fashioned chivalry.

Just not the corsets.

She smiled at the compliment, just briefly lowering her flocked lashes in gratitude. "Thanks," she said. "It's been a minute." Not to say she thought she was rusty. Diana had many vices, but modesty wasn't one of them. She knew she was good. It was more than she was relieved that she'd been able to find the music again. "And...no to the drink, but I wouldn't mind some company," she continued, clapping her hands together, interlacing her fingers.

What? He was cute. And a music lover. It wasn't like she could just hide from the world.

"This isn't your usual gig then?" Ash motioned toward the table he had been sitting at before her voice had caught his attention.

"I'm Ashley." Company, he could do that. He hates being alone. Not that he can't be but his nature draws him toward people. Alone he tends to get lost in his thoughts and emotions. "Are you from around here?"

"Oh, God no," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I'm from a lot of places, but never the Midwest." She didn't count her stint in Chicago. Chicago wasn't the Midwest. Chicago was its own thing. And a remarkable thing it was, but it had been a long, long time ago.

With a smile, she took a seat at his table, careful to arrange the scarves around her shoulders so that she covered any of the bitemarks that might be visible beneath her neckline. Long sleeves and long skirts covered up most of the mess that was her body, but she had to be careful.

Case in point, when she offered him a hand, it was her left hand. The one that didn't have a mangled puncture wound on the back. "Diana," she said. "Diana Abel. A-B-E-L. As in, 'Caine and dot, dot, dot...'"

God why did she keep introducing herself that way? She highly suspected that Grandmother had Conditioned her to do it, at some point. One would think that after being held prisoner for six months, worshipped as 'the Abel,' she'd be so damn tired of that name. Something inside of herself just clung to it.

Taking her hand he holds it as he meets her eyes. His smile at her introduction reaches his eyes. He doesn't know the source of why she introduces herself that way but he thinks it's kind of cute. "Diana Abel, not from the Midwest." He pauses. "Ashley Cromwell, officially. Also not from the Midwest. But, please, call me Ash."

California and New York City are the places he calls home. Only two Garou tribes felt comfortable calling the city home, Ash was born of one of those tribes. He loves living in a big city. You'll never find him complaining about the traffic or noise. Which is why in a smaller city like this he finds himself drawn to the club, it's where the people are.

Taking a seat he leans back comfortably. "The song you were singing...you wrote it?"

Ashley Cromwell? Sounded like a nice English boy. Not that nationality especially mattered to Diana, but she did have something of a soft spot for her old home.

She eased back against the seat, trying not to upset the bites on her back. "It's called Stranger to the Rain," she said, which neither confirmed nor denied his question, but she had to be careful. Yes, she did write. But she didn't get credit. Good, old Stephen Schwartz did.

Apparently, Ashley wasn't a fan of showtunes.

"I've been composing since I was...God, I don't even know. Almost all of my life, I think." Which was completely true. "Like the piano better, but the guitar is infinitely more portable." She set her chin in her palm. "Big music person? Let me guess..." Her gaze flicked up and down, taking him in. "Power ballads? Maybe a Bon Jovi fan?" Her face split into a grin that made her eyes twinkle like the lights on a pinball machine.

The first City Parent was discovered by the Glass Walkers in London, the City Father, in 1882. Making the city historically significant to the tribe and a city of great spiritual power. After the passing of his wife, Ashley's grandfather migrated to California with his young son. Ash wasn't born in England but his father and every generation before him has been.

Every time he chugs down a cup of coffee he thinks about the look on his grandfathers face. Remembers his teasing banter over tea verses coffee.

"Tell me the story behind the song you just sang." Ashley loves the piano. In his home in New York there is a beautiful baby grand that he frequently plays. One of the few things his mother had been allowed to teach him. Music wasn't a priority when the goal was to raise a warrior. She saw how it calmed him and gave him focus, made him come alive in a way that the training with his grandfather didn't. Ash grins at her and nods. "Love music. All of it really. Well, that's a lie, I'm not much of a country music fan. Anything with a good beat you can move to." The way she smiles makes him pause and take her in. Remember the way her eyes lit up. "Power ballads are for karaoke night. I lean toward Journey."

Okay, okay, the dude had good taste in music. She could get behind most of that, although she had to admit, country had started growing on her. Maybe it was because there was a new generation taking over. Time would tell.

Since, apparently, she had time now. Still a lot to wrap her brain around, but she wasn't exactly complaining.

Diana very much enjoyed being alive. Undead. Whatever. Around. That seemed like the best word for it.

She considered lowering her lashes and coyly asking what made him think there was a story behind it. Something stopped her, though. Maybe because the song really did have a certain emotional kick to it. "It's about my sister," she said. "I have two, one older, one younger." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm the poster child of a middle child." Always looking for her place. Always trying to stand out. Always trying to get attention, until she got the wrong kind. "She gave up the love of her life. She'd never admit that's what he was but...well, she's stubborn." Slightly cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, although not nearly as much as she pretended. Mostly, it was stubbornness.

There is always a story behind a song. Always. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but it's always there even when there aren't words. Or so he thinks.

There is a soft laugh that matches the gentle hint of a smile he wears. "Oh shit, we better not talk about birth order or you'll run." Ashley is the only child. He was very spoiled. Mostly he has grown out of that but it's still there a bit and has certainly helped shape him. "Why did she give him up?"

Diana gave him a coy look. As if to say that very little could make her run, at the moment.

Kind of ironic. Running away from her problems had always been her signature move. A fact that was so muddled and complicated that she had to laugh about it, to keep herself from crying. Anyway, no one liked seeing a Cainite cry. Their tears were bloody and it was all kinds of gross.

Anyway, beside the point.

"Well," she said, with a heavy heave of her shoulders, "a lot of reasons. Big one was that his parents didn't approve of her." Bigger one still was the fact that she was a Cainite and he was a mortal. Of course that had never once stopped Diana. But Artemis wasn't Diana. She was far too practical.

"Classic parental disapproval." He rolls his eyes. Garou didn't force marriages but breeding is important to his kind. There had been many heated discussions about who he should mate with for the best chance at breeding true. In the end he had done what he wanted, chosen for himself at a very heavy cost. "Loving someone should be easy. Find the right person. Choose each other. The rest of the world makes it hard. Sorry that happened to your sister."

His long life has been very lonely for that reason. They have to keep their kind a secret, yet choose a partner they might be able to produce pups with, and they can't breed with their own kind. Ash has always felt that their rules and laws are set up for failure. Or at least to always give those that lead them some kind of leverage to wield against them should they need it.

"There's something I want to ask you but..." He sighs. "Might be a touchy question."

Oh, good. A romantic. It was hard to find her own kind...especially among her own kind. Diana had gambled and lost on love repeatedly over two hundred years. And she kept coming back for more.

Love wasn't easy. But it was so, so worth it.

"Well, I just spilled my sister's most-guarded secret," she said, with a hint of playful light in her eyes. "And I wasn't even drunk. I guess touchy is okay."

She figured it had something to do with the song and her own love life, considering the way the conversation had been going. Touchy? Yeah, sure, it was touchy. Diana didn't exactly want to forget her past, though. No matter how epic some of her losses had been. Loving and being loved in return? Definitely kept her human. So it was critical to remember the good parts.

For a few breaths he just watches her, spinning a chunky ring around his index finger with his thumb. He wants to ask but he also doesn't want to send her running either. Finally he lets out a breath with a huff.

"Okay," He leans forward with his elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands. "In your song you mentioned Caine. Again when you introduced yourself. I'm curious about what exactly that word means to you. Is it just a name or more?"

That was a surprisingly astute observation. Usually, only her more theatrical contacts ever noticed. Even then, they didn't make the leap to her own stupid, engrained introduction.

Diana genuinely wasn't sure whether to be impressed or intimidated.

Maybe both. She always preferred to exist in a world of 'both.'

"My father was a professor of comparative religion," she said. "Pretty much every single mythology means something to me." This was entirely the truth. She had to tell the truth, because any lie would be obvious. "I guess I've always been kind of fascinated with the story of Caine and Abel and Seth. Most people oversimplify the whole thing, you know?"

Ashley's job, well one of them, in his pack is being the go to guy for gathering intel on targets. He pays attention to everything, no detail is too small. That isn't something he turns off in his personal life, likely to the dismay of everyone he interacts with.

Many times he's wrong about his assumptions. That never stops him from asking. Ash believes in failing fast. Just ask, if you're wrong, try again.

"Why the fascination with that story?" These are the kinds of conversations he loves to have. Sure finding out things like what colors someone likes or what their favorite thing to eat is could come in handy, he's been known to use those things like someone would tools in a tool box to win someone over. Ash wants to have meaningful, interesting conversations and really get to know who someone is. "That's where humanity gets into trouble with religion, right? Oversimplify. Overcomplicate. Take things out of context to suit an agenda...or add to it. We kind of ruin it."

"Exactly," she said, jabbing a couple of fingers into the tabletop. "And blindly accepting that certain divine things are actually quite human creations. You know, there are a number of religious scholars who hold that the Old Testament was written by at least four different individuals, if not institutions. And they further argue that the whole Adam-Eve-Caine-Abel thing was an addendum that was lumped in because there was no creation myth in the original text."

This was definitely not how Diana had imagined the conversation going. But she got increasingly animated as she went.

God, when was the last time she'd had a conversation about religion with someone who didn't think she was the Cainite messiah?

Phoenix. Abe, maybe.

Ugh, this had to go better than that had.

"Don't get me started on the sexist interpretations," she continued, rolling those lavender eyes of hers. "Both of the canonical and apocryphal texts. Both Eve and Lilith get gnarly bad wraps and it totally ruined society for centuries. Like, every woman is suddenly nothing but a temptress."

She has every ounce of his attention as she speaks. Her enthusiasm, the animated gestures and changes to her expression bring a smile to his face. It's cute.

"Are they sexist interpretations or like the creation myth added after the fact to control women by demeaning them?" He smirks. "You know men historically like to manipulate situations so we can hold on to our power." His fingers tap against the table as his smile grows. "Saying things like apocryphal might make me think you are a temptress, Diana."

Intelligence is very attractive, at least to Ashley. His head tilts, shifting into the palm of his right hand for support.

"You said almost all mythologies mean something to you...like what?"

Hardly the first time anyone had called her a temptress. The funny part being...she wasn't even trying at the moment.

She shook her head a little, exhaling between her teeth. "At the risk of sounding totes mushy," she said, "mythology kind of means everything to me. Makes me think of my dad. Sometimes, he kind of sucked. But he tried to be the best dad he could." You know, in 1700s England. With vampires manipulating pretty much everything he did. "It was so important to him for all three of us to study the bigger world. Realize how much things all connect to one another."

A radical notion, back in the 1700s, but whatever. Diana didn't have a lot of reasons to be proud of her father. She'd take what she could get. He'd been a proto-feminist. It was cool.

"I mean, the guy named his daughters Selene, Diana, and Artemis." She smirked. "Mythology was a very, very big deal in our family."

"Not mushy...I think it's sweet." Most of his upbringing had been at the hands of his grandfather. Ashley's father did not breed true and was not a Garou, which left his education and training with his grandfather and the Glass Walker tribe. He has a lot of fond memories of him and a lot of not so great ones. But, he had done his best. "Like the way your dad thinks. We're all connected to each other, to nature, the cosmos. It's good to understand that."

Ash chuckles. Those names. "A lot of connections to the moon. Selene, goddess of the moon. Diana, goddess of the hunt...and chastity, fertility and the moon. Artemis, of hunting, wild nature, and chastity...but there is a connection to the moon through her mother Leto and her grandmother Phoebe, I think."

"You know your stuff," she said nodding approvingly. "Arty used to joke that it was kind of a shame we weren't werewolves or something, with the whole moon obsession."

Actually, there were a lot of reasons why Artemis felt that way. There were days it seemed like the Garou were doing a better job of saving the world than the Order. Of course, they had a few unfair advantages. Sunlight, for one thing. Also the ability to rip a Cainite apart in three seconds.

All of the Order was still haunted and awed by the stories that Pixie brought back from the Garou clean-up in Perth. It was a miracle any Cainites had survived. Arty was glad, since most of them were corrupt. But Diana? She believed everyone deserved the chance for redemption. Ultimately, the whole thing felt like a waste of life.

"Ever met any werewolves?" His eyes are bright and amused when he asks the question. "The moon is a powerful force of nature. I'm definitely a fan."

Like Diana, he doesn't want to kill just to kill. Over the years he has seen to much. Even what he might consider a miracle. One of his closest friends was once a vampire who became something more, different, and a powerful force against the Wyrm's corruption. He never thought that was possible. Redemption is possible. While the Garou Nation needs Ashley for his money, power and influence, he still never really feels like he belongs because of what he believes. Glass Walkers live in the cities where they are constantly rubbing elbows with the vampires. They have formed truces and alliances in some cases to keep the cities from becoming war torn. If he didn't own the property where the Caern in New York City sits, he is sure his own kind would have tried to get rid of him by now.

He doesn't follow their rules and is far too human for their liking. And he won't kill a vampire without a real reason, which he always vets for himself. Trust but verify is his motto.

She laughed, albeit a little nervously. While she was beginning to understand that the rules of the Masquerade weren't quite what they'd been in Phoenix, she knew she needed to be careful. Yes, there were supernatural creatures lurking around in their lurky, lurky sort of way. But there were plenty of normal, lovely people too. Diana loved people. And therefore felt the need to protect them from the world of darkness.

Was Ashley joking? Or was he something more than people? No way to tell from his tone. She was tempted again to look at his aura, but resisted.

"If I ever saw a werewolf," she said, "I'd hope it was Michael J. Fox from Teen Wolf. He seemed pretty friendly."

Ashley laughs. He likes to push the limits of the rules. Once or twice he has gotten himself in pretty hot water for it. Still doesn't stop him. They need him and he knows it. There is a slight shrug of his shoulder. "I would consider myself pretty friendly."

His tongue sweeps over his lips and he adds, "And much better looking then Teen Wolf."

Although Diana considered herself quite stupid, she was smart enough to understand what he was saying. If there had been any color in her cheeks at all, it would have drained away.

A werewolf. This charming, sweet, music-loving man was a werewolf. She was in the actual presence of a werewolf. Completely alone. No overprotective sisters to rush to her defense, to drag her out of the line of danger.

She nipped at her lower lip for a moment. Apart from the horror stories out of Perth, everything the Order knew about werewolves was largely theoretical. So did he know what she was? That was kind of the one-million-dollar question now. Was he just playing with his food, metaphorically speaking.

Was she totally fucked?

"Well," she said, keeping her voice as light as possible, "you're definitely sexier than Michael J. Fox."

Of course he knows what she is. Luna gave her monster warriors gifts to find and eliminate the corruption caused by the Wyrm. Vampires smell of the Wyrm to varying degrees. While he can tell what she is, he can also tell she isn't what he would consider to be corrupt. Or at least not to the level he would concern himself with. While many Garou firmly believe in and practice a 'kill them all' mentality, he does not. He lives in the cities, side by side with the vampires, killing every vampire he ever came across would get messy. Cause the kind of trouble that draws too much attention.

His Alpha's partner was once the vampire prince of New York. Ashley's ideas about vampires verses werewolves are very, very flexible.

Leaning closer he still looks at ease. "Hope you're not just saying that because you're afraid of upsetting me. Or worried you'll end up dinner."

Test Drive Meme #1

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work killed me yesterday. sorry for the slow reply. :)

No worries!

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i'll be slow this weekend but I am loving this thread so i'll be back i swear!

No rush!

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