dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #3

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!test drive

Test Drive Meme #3

Welcome to Hadriel's test drive, and thank you again for your interest in the game! As always, our reserves page is here, and our applications page is here! Reserves open November 24th, and apps are open December 1st.

Two quick points here as well:
1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon!

Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!

F E A R

SCENARIO ONE: GIMME A HUG
[The Door brings in all that is chaotic and evil in the world. This may include you, may include the person next to you... and may include the monster behind you.

Watch out as you explore the streets of Hadriel, because you're not alone, and there's always something on the rooftops watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to separate you from your group and tear you into pieces. This time, the Door has brought in a large slithering beast for you meet.

This Titanoboa is not the friendliest of snakes. Over fifty feet long, it requires quite a lot of meals in order to keep going, and it seems to be most interested in making you one of them. A giant anaconda, this is a constrictor rather than a venomous snake - but don't worry. It's got teeth, too, in case it needs to do a touch of nibbling. We're sure you'll get along just fine.]

SCENARIO TWO: THE DOCTOR IS IN
[You awaken on an operating table. How did you get here? What's going on? You don't remember checking into a hospital or seeing a doctor, and when you try to get up you quickly discover that your hands and legs are secured tightly to the table, the straps digging into your skin.

Next to the table is a tray of gleaming steel surgical instruments, their sharp blades glittering as the overhead light flickers. They seem to be the only clean thing in the room, as you begin to realize that the walls of this operating room are moldy and stained, and there's something dripping from the ceiling. This may not be a legitimate hospital at all.

There are footsteps outside the door. It could be a friend - or not. Will you call for help? Try to free yourself? Lay back and wait for the doctor to arrive?]

H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: HOPESGIVING
[You find yourself in a kitschy, brightly lit, utterly pleasant gift shop. Lining the shelves are all manner of stuffed animals, inspirational figurines, greeting cards, and delightful ornaments. Some even look familiar, like something you might have seen before.

The door isn't locked. You can just leave, if you want. But on a pedestal where the registers should be is a globe of glittering light, and within it, a picture of the person you care for most in the world. Carved on the pedestal are the words Bring someone hope, and you will bring them happiness.

Of course, you aren't alone in there. Will you find something on the shelves to show to your companion, something that might bring them hope? Or maybe you brought something from home. Or maybe you don't care at all, and just want to smash everything in there. It's all up to you.

This is a simplified version of this month's Hope event.]

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SCENARIO THREE: HOPE

[ Yaha can honestly say that he's confused. He did not expect himself to be in a shop -- and one absent of its shopkeep. The elf thinks that he would be somewhere with a lot more fire.

He wanders through, looking at the objects on the shelf, with befuddlement. It is only when he notices the globe on the pedestal does he stop his aimless wandering. His eyebrows come together as he steps forward -- tilting his head a little so that he could catch a glimpse of what is inside at a "safe distance." But it is only when he sees what is within that he rushes forward. His hands gloss over the globe as he breathes heavily upon it until the outside fogs.

Urick. The elf looks to read what is carved. His hands immediately drop away from the globe. ] Hope?

You do not bring someone happiness with hope. [ Pulling away, he walks towards the object in the shop. How did the shopkeep know? How? Is it a test? What an unfortunate test that it is. Because the elf understands the truth of "hope." Fill a person with it and it's worse than any poison that you could give.

He starts to grab various items off of the shelves to smash them on the floor. ] Let's see if we can bring the shopkeep forward, hm? [ His voice remains calm, lilting as it always does, even as he starts to rip the stuffed animals apart. ]

Edited 2015-11-21 21:12 (UTC)

[The shop is large enough that if he wanted, he could ignore the other elf in it completely (and he can tell it's an elf by those tapered ears, long and pointed). While he maintains a healthy distance, a mixture of suspicion and wary interest keep his eyes on the stranger.

Fenris says nothing when the elf begins speaking, although his brow draws tight with confusion at the words. He hasn't approached the globe himself; there's something unusual about it that makes him stay away. He would not be surprised if magic is at work here.

Glass shatters across the floor, causing him to start forward, body tense.]

What are you doing? [He doesn't ask out of concern for the shop's wares. He watches the elf tear apart a small stuffed rabbit with bewilderment.] Although I suppose it's an effective method, if you're seeking an angry merchant.

And another elf?

[ His shoulders drop just a little as he holds a few ornaments in his hands, prepared to dash them across the floor too. He did not notice this one and he drops what he is holding. They break as they wont to do, but this time not by his own desires. ]

I do wish to see an angry merchant, because there is no such thing as bringing hope to anyone. [ He tilts his head just a little as he steps forward, over the broken pieces. ] Even seeing you is not a hopeful sight. Do you know how long it has been since I've seen another elf? Why do they bring you before me now?

[ If he were younger, even three years younger, he may have taken so much heart in knowing he was not alone. But now, it means little to him to see another elf. No, that's not true either. There's a lot happening. A lot to hold. A lot to wish for. But most he wishes everything to be bathed in red so that he can find his calm. ]

What is your name?

[At the unexpected approach, Fenris takes his own steps backward, suspicion climbing. He bristles at the attention - he knows he may be an uncommon elf himself, but city elves or Dalish elves, slaves or servants... they're not rare.]

I doubt I was meant to be a hopeful sight.

[There's a touch of sarcasm in it. Why would his presence be hopeful to another elf? It makes no sense, nor does anything he's seen so far.]

And I couldn't know that. Elves aren't unusual.

[He takes care not to step on any glass pieces with bare feet. At least he's armed, although he senses no threat yet.]

My name is Fenris. Who are you?

Elves aren't unusual to you?

[ He repeats the phrase carefully. ] What a beautiful world that you must live in. While you do not see yourself as a hopeful sight, you bring ... you bring words I did not expect to ever hear.

[ His head tilts to the side, letting his hair cascade down over his face. ] I am Lieutenant Yaha. For what little that title means now. [ A beat. ] No, it means everything. How odd I must sound to you... but we should never forget ourselves, Fenris. We should never forget what we have gathered in our hands to be ours. And that title is mine.

[ Another turn of his head so that he no longer is looking through his hair as he smiles. ] What is it that you have here that is yours?

[A Lieutenant? That sits strangely with him, and it shows on his face in a brief flicker of uncertainty. It's not a title he would have imagined for an elf. Still, he can't help a flare of bitter resentment.]

A beautiful world in which elves are commonly enslaved by those power-hungry and corrupt. [And if lucky enough to avoid that fate, then go on to face oppression in the south regardless.] Is that what you wished to hear? Do not speak to me with familiarity. I care little for the plight of other elves. We are not the same.

[He considers whether he's going to answer, glancing away, expression dark.]

What I have here is freedom. It won't be taken from me.

Enslaved? [ Is it the fate of their race to always suffer? Is that what meaning their lives must have? ] No... I wished to hear that they were happy and well. But I believe that would only happen if all humans were dead. It is humans that are torturing us so, isn't it? Of course, it always is them. [ His voice returns to the same lilting tone of before as he starts to smile sweetly. ]

I see. I would not take that freedom from you, Fenris. We may not be the same, and I will not burden you anymore with my troubles. The suffering of an elf... I do not wish to see that. [ He starts to laugh which probably takes away from his words. ] Ah, forgive me. It's just... no matter how unhappy that you are, how much you may detest me for my familiarity... I am suddenly finding the hope in our situation.

[ And is that not what the shopkeep desired? ]

It is the fault of mages more than humans. The affliction of magic is not prejudiced. Any mage can become corrupt. [At least in his own eyes, although humans are the dominant race of Thedas.] They will always seek more power.

[The tone is unsettling. It doesn't match the words that are said, and Yaha's laugh has him bristling. No matter what he's assured, he remains guarded.]

And what of your elves? Is it the same?

[He tells himself he won't be surprised of the answer.]

[ His smile fades. Oh, dear. It seems it would be best not to show Fenris that he is a mage. Yaha does his best to appear scandalized at the thought of those with magic. ] What awful beings!

[ Says the elf who uses the blood and screams of the tortured in some of his spells. ] What of my elves? They're dead. I'm all that is left. An army came ... they understood our power and wiped every last one of them out. Oh, no... that's ... there may be those scattered to the winds, but on all accounts, they are a dead race in my world.

[Best keep the blood magic a secret as long as possible, unless Yaha wants an extremely unpleasant reaction. As it is now, the agreement has him somewhat calming from his prickly caution.]

Our realities may not be so different. It's believed elves were once more plentiful than any other race, but they were overtaken by the invasion of humans and forcefully enslaved. [History isn't his highest interest. He doesn't care for what may have happened in the past; it doesn't change the present.] You managed to survive. How?

I ...

[ Yaha lightly shakes his head at his dear new companion. To have another elf hear, somehow he is not certain that he could bear it. To be looked down upon, to be hated by something that he did not think he would ever see once again. Who knew that he could feel shame? ]

I do not know if that is something I could have you hear, Fenris. It may color your view of me and ... I want you to look upon me positively. You're the first elf I have seen in almost twenty years. Let's not ruin it with what is the past and what we've done to live to this point.

[What is that supposed to mean? Fenris looks at him oddly, expression tinged with more suspicion, although a part of him responds to the sentiment. Moving on from the past... isn't that what he's striven to do in these last several years? And is still struggling against each day. He looks down at his feet, mouth pressed in a tight line.]

You care a great deal for my opinion simply because I am an elf, and I won't claim to understand that. But I will not make you tell me. There are a number of things I would rather not share of my own past.

[Things he was made to do, emotions he was made to feel. He's familiar with shame.]

Though I imagine this place cares little for what we want.

And yet, how is that any different from where we have come? We have our freedom and [ -- our magic -- ] our lives! But we are still in a world that cares little of our wants.

So, let us do our best to ensure that our time here is one where we are beneath no boot and strive to hold a place where no one will make us feel weak. Does that not sound like a wonderful goal, Fenris? [ Oh, Yaha, did you forget just a few minutes ago about mages who seek out power? But this is different, isn't it? It's so different!

Because Fenris doesn't know.

He steps forward with a bright smile to reach out to take his dear friend's hands. Who cares if he is being too familiar? He's stepped away from talking on his past and now can talk of a future. A future where the streets and walls will be bathed in blood! Isn't that what they're both talking about? ] Look, do you see? Do you see the hope that I've found in you?

[His eyes have wandered over their surroundings in the meantime, as though surprised about the lack of an angry merchant. No one's come to investigate the source of destroyed goods. It's... unsettling, to say the least. Does no one care about their ruined inventory?

When his hands are taken, Fenris stiffens, attempting to jerk out of the grip. His gaze is wide and alarmed like a deer caught in the trajectory of an arrow. He doesn't like being touched. This is a familiarity far beyond what he's used to, or comfortable bearing. The lyrium stings along the backs of fingers.]

You are easily inspired.

[It definitely sounds like a harsh criticism.]

Is that all it takes to give you hope?

Yes.

[ It is what he did back home. Why did he have to be so foolish as to think that such a thing could not be done here?

He does let Fenris's hands go when he pulls away. It would be wrong to continue to hold them if he does not want him to. But he does. Ah, maybe he should find a blade to cut them at the wrist to keep. Then he would always have something of another elf close.

Such violent thoughts. He wonders if he is really calming down or becoming agitated. Sometimes ... sometimes it is hard to tell. ]

It means that there is something that we can do to better our situation. One can always better their situation even if they are not sitting upon a throne. Do you not agree?

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lethen - 2015-11-23 04:51 (UTC) - Expand

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barebacking - 2015-11-23 05:28 (UTC) - Expand

[There's nobody in the world he cares for most. There's no draw to stay in the shop for the biker, and he'd decided to leave. But not before smoking the last of his Lucky Strikes, leaned against the windows of the hokey little shop.

He's almost done after minutes pass by, flipping his helmet back down as the cig burns to the filter. That's when he hears the shattering, the clinking of things being tossed. The biker glances over his shoulder to look at what might be causing the ruckus. Flicking the smoldering stub he has left to the ground he stares. There's-- someone looking like a shitty David Lee Roth impersonator breaking things.

This is funny. Funny enough to step back in, maybe dinging a little bell on the door.]

That works better in a grocery store...

Works better in a grocery store?

[ He repeats the phrase carefully and wonders on the meaning of it. A quick rip to have the stuffed animal's fluff join the rest of the broken pieces on the floor. It's depressing but it looks like there is not going to be anyone who is going to show their face. Humorous that he says such a statement that is presently his predicament with the one that is before him now.

What an odd helmet. ]

Nothing seems to be done or changing. I have to say that's ... very depressing. You would think they cared about what is supposed to bring people hope. But that is the myth of hope, isn't it?

[You throw cans, dent them and bring them to the register. That's how deadbeats save dollars. Even when you make enough to buy half the store with your illegal dealings, old habits die hard.

The biker doesn't stop to explain, though, because David Lee Roth is going on about-- what the fuck is he talking about? He's staring, eyes hidden under the dark visor.]

What the fuck are you talking about?

[Vocalizing his thoughts.]

Hope, of course. And the lie of what it is.

[ He makes a gesture towards all that he has ruined. ] I take it that you do not share my feelings on that particular subject? [ Still, it's oddly calming to be around someone who is so separate from his own tantrum. Yaha smiles as he feels himself see that nothing he does -- even destroying this entire shop -- matters. ]

But I suppose ... I could tear everything to pieces and have it amount to very little. [ A beat. ] Why is it that you wear such an odd piece of armor?

[He's still staring as Yaha goes on about-- whatever it is he's going on about. Maybe Brandon doesn't pay that much attention in general. Or maybe this sounds like the ramblings of someone post-a line of coke and all he's going to do is wait his turn.

Doesn't think anyone's called his helmet armor before but it kind of is, isn't it? That's one metal way of looking at it.]

This is basic bike safety, kiddo.

[He taps the side with one finger. There's dried blood streaked across the teal surface he's forgotten about.]

[ That is enough to continue to calm him down. Confusion overrides anger, annoyance, at the very idea of "hope." He steps a little closer to tilt his head to get a better look at what is "basic bike safety." ]

What is a bike? I have never heard of such a contraption. A weapon? [ He tilts his head to the side before noticing the streak of red. Something familiar, finally. His hands reach out so that he could take either side of the helmet -- to draw himself close to taste that which has already dried. ]

[Really, Oliver has no other purpose in being here save for scoping the place out. The mystical words inscribed over the pedestal hit home on some level, but it's not enough to hook his attention for too long. He's more preoccupied with getting a general feeling for the layout of Hadriel. Sentimental toys and decorations aren't exactly his style anyway. He struggles enough as is with the whole... domestic married life.

And that's when he hears the crash. Presently, he's in the back of the store, nearly debating about leaving but--welp. Obnoxiously loud commotion and the potential for an actual crime taking place is enough to drag him over to the scene of the action.

Oliver stomps on over to where Yaha is causing a ruckus. Frankly, seeing as that he's presently decked out in his Arrow gear, which is comparable to a LARPer on steroids, he could easily be mistaken for said shopkeep. If this were the 16th century.

He stalls momentarily and just sort of stares at Yaha for a moment. Stares at this androgynous elf tearing apart a stuffed animal right before his eyes. You know. Just when he thinks he's seen it all...]

That's vandalism.

[He grunts in his classic Batman voice. Okay really, all things considered, this is probably the most minor crime he's ever had to put a stop to.]

And completely unnecessary.

Well...

[ He accents the start of his sentence with ripping the head off of one of the stuffed animals before turning to face the person interrupting his tantrum. Yaha pauses as he looks at the archer in mild confusion. The toy is discarded on the ground as he moves so that he can get a better look at the strange-dressed man (says the elf in six-inch heels). ]

That's hardly the right color to wear. You don't blend into much. [ That seems like an important piece for him to point out to the man. Yaha steps forward as he continues on with what he is saying. ] And unnecessary as my ... vandalism ... [ The word sounds odd in his mouth. ] is ... there is a lesson that is to be learned here, archer.

Tell me, do you understand what hope is?

[Oliver's gaze travels from Yaha's face down to the cuddly little toy he's currently beheading. His expression remains it's usual cold, steely calm, unflinching even in the face of this ghastly assault. The fashion critique is similarly disregarded.

Though really, six-inch heels are somewhat impressive. Not that Oliver is going to openly acknowledge the fact because similarly... unnecessary. As if Oliver can even begin to judge people for theatrics.

Anyway, apparently there's a lesson to be learned here. And Oliver can't even begin to deduct what that would be given Yaha's approach. Or how it could possibly relate to breaking and tearing apart the the merchandise in this here store. However, something tells him that this stranger is going to inform him anyway.]

I have a pretty good idea.

[Taking one majestic step forward.]

And it doesn't involve wrecking the interior of a gift shop.

[Devolving from sadistic sociopathic criminals to... this. Truth be told, "this" is kind of a refreshing breather from the norm. Even if in the back of his mind, Oliver feels like this might just be a waste of time and effort.]

Well, I think some of it involves wrecking the interior of the person who owns the shop, too.

[ The elf is willing to accept that there is more to the punishment of giving him the image of Urick than just ruin someone's business. ]

It's normally not very polite to talk on such things ... murder, I mean. [ His shoulders shrug once as he looks at the mess that he has been making. No one has shown up yet to scold him. He wonders if that is smart or ... if it means the person who owns all of this doesn't care. ]

And is that not the true definition of granting someone hope? Not being here to see what happens after. To see if it goes well or if it goes array. I must say it usually does the latter more than the former. [ There is a moment to sigh. ]

You're right, though ... in the end, even wrecking this store didn't do anything to prove the point to the person who made it. I suppose that means that it is a lesson that has to be gifted to others.

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Test Drive Meme #3

yaha | drakengard 2

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