dankmemes | test drive meme #17

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 February 22nd, and apps are open March 1st. Please remember that there is an app cap of 20 apps.

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, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!

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: SHOOTING HOOPS
[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.

There you are, calmly exploring this super cool cave city, when all of a sudden you see something roll toward you. What could that possibly be? Why, it seems the Door has brought in some hoop snakes, which are definitely real.

Hoop snakes are poisonous and aggressive reptiles, able to pursue fleeing prey by grasping their tail in their jaws and rolling after them like a wheel. Wow, so efficient! Hard to get away from, though, and kind of... terrifying? If you want to get away, you better be a fast runner. Or maybe you should climb something. Good luck!]

S O R R O W

SCENARIO TWO: YOU GOT THE BLUES
[You woke up this morning on the wrong side of the bed. Not the angry side - the sad side. Somehow, everything just seems to be going wrong, and you don't know why. You were out of milk for your cereal, the fruit you picked just yesterday is already going bad, and instead of getting frustrated all you want to do is feel sorry for yourself.

Even the good things aren't going too well. Maybe your friend just told you your hair looks nice today - doesn't that mean it looks bad the rest of the time? Probably. They've just been too nice to tell you. And your crush smiled at you - that probably means they know about your feelings and are getting ready to let you down easy. That's the only explanation.

No matter what happens, your mind is giving you the worst, most depressing interpretation. You can try to fight it and be aggressively upbeat - or maybe you just want to cry on somebody's shoulder. Yeah. That sounds good right about now.]

D E L I G H T

SCENARIO THREE: PUCKER UP
[For once, Hadriel looks rather lovely, all covered in snow and seasonal! Sure, it's not quite the right season anymore, but who really knows what month it is? Not the residents, and certainly not the gods. But for whatever reason, Delight has decided there should be snow on the ground and ugly sweaters in the shops.

And, of course, mistletoe. On your wanderings around the city, you may find yourself under the mistletoe with a friend or a stranger or even an enemy. Regardless of who they are and how you really feel about them, the mistletoe will give you a gentle compulsion to plant a kiss right on those appealing lips of theirs. You can resist if you want - it won't force you - but don't you kind of want to go for it?

This is a mini version of our Kissmas event this month!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Really? [The question is flat, punctuated by an arched eyebrow.] It matters enough to send you running into the street like someone's trying to murder you.

[...Rita doesn't do comforting people.]

( Well, Rita isn't exactly wrong, but the notebook itself... that doesn't matter. )

It's what it represents. ( There's no point in trying to dance around the subject, really. Dylan's never been good at that, and god only knows her family probably wishes she was. Wishes she didn't go after her father's disappearance like a dog with a bone. )

It's the kind of thing my dad would buy.

( Because that explains everything. )

[Obviously it's not the thing itself but the response it elicits. The memories it brings, the feelings it calls to mind.

Rita shrugs, watching the emotion flicker on the girl's face. Easy to read. Honest. Poor sap.

What's it like to live a life where you don't always have to be on guard or pulling the strings? What's it like to look at the kind of thing your father would buy and feel something positive?

She hmphs, twisting her lips in a nasty grin. Better to look evil than as sad as you feel.]

You two must've been close before you got here. [Then all at once, she presses her lips into a straight line. She will not shed a tear over Vaughn Du Clark. Ever.] That must be nice.

We-

Yeah, we were. ( People probably called her a daddy's girl, growing up, but hey, she lucked out, ended up with a father who wasn't a jerk, or dead, or absent, or any of the million different things that could have happened.

But everyone just wants to forget, pretend like he could have been those people who leave their families for some woman in an ugly coat. Which is bullshit.

He wouldn't leave her. And now she can't do anything to prove it, stuck here. )

It's why I've gotta get out of here. I have to find him.

[The corner of Rita's mouth twitches, and she gives a quick huff of a laugh to cover it up.]

My dad's dead.

[She says it like she's stating some boring, obvious fact. Water is wet. The sub is bright. Her dad's dead. Sorrow can't take the vicious pride she feels over having been Vaughn's cause of death, but he can turn her resentment in the last moments she saw him alive into something more human than the cold rage she steeled herself with for so long in life.]

He deserved it. [She shrugs and meets Dylan's gaze.] Lucky you, who has a dad that cares.

( What would her life have been like if her dad wasn't the man she loved so much? The one who took her to play hide and seek in his storage locker, or always did something to make her laugh? The man who fostered a love of secret compartments in watches and all these little daily pieces of adventure that made life seem far more exciting than it is?

Maybe she'd be breaking into houses before he disappeared. She wouldn't bother trying to find him. She'd upset the apple cart for the hell of it because she's a spoiled little rich girl whose zest and joy came from that wide-eyed energy and laughter her dad provided.

Her gaze lifts to look at the stranger, eyes bright and wet, but nothing spilling over now. There's something theraputic about ranting, even if it's only little bits of the story she's shared. )

Yeah? Why's that?

( Why'd he deserve it? )

[Rita shrugs. The nicest memory she has of her dad is when she was little and sick with a nasty stomach bug once and he stayed with her as she slept off the shot the doctor gave her, the one that finally made her stop heaving every ten minutes. Even then, he hadn't stopped doing his own thing. He'd done work from home, made phone calls, probably resented her mother for keeping her despite how very obvious it had been to everyone ever that she'd gone and gotten herself knocked up by Vaughn Du Clark. Probably resented Rita herself for merely existing.

Why did Vaughn deserve to die? She almost laughs. Why didn't he?

For the sad girl with the perfect dad, Rita picks the most obvious answer.]

He tried to kill me. Twice. [Sort of. It just sounds better that way. It makes the story shorter.] After he swore he was doing everything for me.

[Are you listening, Dad? You're a liar, a coward, and an absolute piece of shit.]

In the end, he just wanted to do what was easiest for him. [Probably what he'd wanted for her from the start: nonexistence. A quick trip to the doctor to get rid of the problem.

She gives Dylan a cruel, cold smirk, while her eyes burn with anger.] So yeah. He deserved it.

[He deserved to be devoured by the monster he created.]

Edited (grammared bad, oops) 2017-02-21 01:04 (UTC)

( She's not entirely sheltered. Hell, five minutes of watching television is enough to tell you that some people's lives suck in comparison to your own and that most parents are less than perfect. (Just look at her mother. Liar that she is. Ragging on London when she's doing her best.) But there's knowing that, and then there's being confronted with that.

She's wide-eyed when Rita explains and, slowly, that shock turns to a more hard-jawed look. The kind of thing she wears when anger takes over and injustice boils somewhere in her gut, in a way that can't be fully explained by anything but yelling.

But this isn't her anger, her fight. That's the only thing that keeps her voice down, keeps the expression cool instead of hot. )

Yeah. When you put it like that... He deserved it.

[For all that the story was crafted to gain sympathy, Rita is... underwhelmed, she guesses, by that response. It's so simple, such an understated way to say that yes, she's right to be glad he's dead. She's right to have been the one to rip open his skull before being killed herself.

What had she been expecting? Fury? Fear? Disdain? Something more than this. She breathes through the rising wave of anger, clenching her hands into fists as if that could possibly help steady her. Rita is not violent by nature, but right now, she would let loose the virus's capability for destruction on any of the monsters in the caves.

Her eyes burn with what she thinks at first must be fire, then realizes are tears. Of course. Sorrow's influence is string today, and it tears into the cracks in her armor and make her face the thoughts she only entertained in that brief time of childhood innocence.]

He deserved worse. [She all but growls the words out, leaning on her anger to get through this. Be calm, she tells herself. Stay in control.

Even though you're dead now and it doesn't really matter.]

test drive meme #17

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cw for death? rita's cynicism and rage? cannibalism, kind of? abortions are mentioned

"oh where's this tag it's not in my inbox..." it's pinned to your browser, nic

cw ref to gore