test drive meme #17

[hadrielmods]

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!]

Comments

[daemonized]

((ooc; YELLS hello!! apologies for my sluggishness tonight))

[Unlike with anyone else he might have recognized, Ardyn does not give himself time to let the voice settle in his mind. That inflection requires for him to turn around almost immediately, a quick turn of the heel that leaves him facing the prince. The Chosen King. The one who had fulfilled the prophecy, put an end to a ten-year dark, the one who had finally, finally granted him death.

He hardly looks much like a chosen king now, does he. Enjoy that immeasurable moment of consideration then, Noctis, the sort where his gaze is both searching and disquieting. His grip on the spear, the weapon he had so dramatically planted on the ground, loosens -- but it's hardly out of relaxation, or anything of the sort. Rather, it's Ardyn deciding how to proceed, fighting back that acrid bitterness that threatens to break the surface of his otherwise ineffable demeanor.

(Was everything he had worked for, everything he had actually achieved, so easily undone?)

Noctis radiates anger at him, but Ardyn settles instead on a disturbing calmness, a facetiousness that's darkly patronizing, and otherwise difficult to read. He even leans his weight into the weapon, as if amused by the circumstances before him.]

Noctis. You don't look happy to see me.

[kittycaterer]

[[ooc: ITS OK! I'm also super sluggish and slow rn]]]

[ His voice has a rancid sort of feeling to it, as if each word clings itself to Noctis's frame in the form of a sinister film over his skin. It sinks in, buries itself in his flesh and threatens to undo him. While Noctis doesn't approach Ardyn right away, his fists clench in a manner suggesting that could change very quickly. ]

[ His eyes look at the manner in which Ardyn casually leans against his chosen weapon. Noctis doesn't choose his quite yet, recalling just how slick the chancellor is. The man is immortal, coupled with the temporary immortality that Hope gifts the guests of this cave. The thought of ripping him to shreds is only tempting when considering Noctis could cause his suffering again and again. Though the prince has yet to learn of who Ardyn truly is, or that his continual lifespan has left him an angry shell of a walking phantom. Instead, he sees him more as a man with a gift he doesn't deserve. Still, he takes a step forward. ]

How observant of you.

[ No, no he's not happy at all. Considering who's here and how desperate he will be to protect them? Noctis is pissed, to say the least. ]

Does that mean you can tell how this'll pan out? I'm not a fan of delivering bad news.

[ Another step forward. Noctis lifts his arm horizontally, palm open as he calls upon his Royal Arms. The Sword of the Warrior, which glitters in the dim lighting as it joins the hand of its master. Each word Noctis speaks is practically done so through gritting teeth, the prince looking extremely bitter and angered towards Ardyn's presence. ]

[daemonized]

[Noctis is being blatantly sarcastic, that much is obvious; but there’s truth in his statement about Ardyn being observant. He’s taking in everything about the young prince, from his demeanor (easy enough to read, quite angry), to the bruises on his face, to the words he chooses to assault him with. Ardyn remains annoyingly unflappable, however. He barely even moves, only subtly shifting his weight to the other foot as Noctis actually calls forth one of his Royal Arms, the sword glistening with light.

And while hostility reveals much about what the boy might remember, it won’t ever be satisfactory. A passing glance reveals how laughably evident this is not the True King that Ardyn has come to expect from his own experiences (physical differences alone were enough to reveal that), and that realization is enough to render everything else moot. His mood, already soured black by this day, by these odd circumstances, isn’t exactly amicable. Yes, he smiles, but there’s cruelty behind his eyes — he doesn’t have to play at niceties if Noctis is already threatening to skewer him, if he’s already glaring a million daggers his way.]

Straight to a fight, then?

[He chuckles, gesturing with his free hand that isn’t clasped around the spear. A spear which is, honestly, something of a joke compared to the magnificence of an actual royal arm. But Ardyn doesn’t seem bothered at all, revealing exactly how threatened he feels. Spoiler: not at all.]

You should know better, Your Highness. You can’t defeat me in the state that you’re in. [One might think Ardyn is referring to Noctis’ bruises, when he means something else altogether different.

He won’t be the one to strike first, but never let it be said he isn’t above taunting the prince to something beyond anger.] Though by all means, don’t let that stop you. If you’re keen on sporting more bruises than you already have, who am I to judge?

[kittycaterer]

[ Fighting Ardyn is a practice in futility-- Noctis knows this, objectively. But that anger which boils within him and threatens to explode is what drive every single slow, striding step forward. As the glistening blade rests itself in his hand, Noctis' gaze seems to zero in on Ardyn as if his will is absolute and his mind is made up. This is a pointless exercise, but recalling what he saw Ardyn do to Lunafreya and the time he'd spent in the Keep? He doesn't rightly care. ]

[ But the prince doesn't attack. Not just yet, and that likely could be because there's a voice in his head telling him not to. That this will just end in a persistent practice of hatred and pointless fighting. They aren't on Eos, and though that should make it very clear to Noctis that Ardyn is powerless here because of it? There's still an ever-present danger in him simply being here. ]

Want to make a bet on that?

[ Even if Ardyn may be somewhat right in his inability to defeat him, Noctis still wants to believe otherwise. The blade rests at Noctis' side as he takes another step forward, the very tip nearly grazing along the floor. His fingers white-knuckle around the handle, damn-near shaking at the boiling anger that comes just from looking at the Chancellor's smug grin. ]

There's a fine line between confidence and arrogance, Ardyn. You're gonna learn really quick that this place is immune to your crap games.

[daemonized]

[How powerless is he, detached from Eos? It’s a good question, to be mused upon later, but Ardyn is still a very dangerous individual in ways that Noctis still doesn’t realize, even despite all he’s seen. That he resists swinging at Ardyn with his blade is probably the wiser decision.

The self-restraint is almost admirable, though, given the very visible anger he sees stewing under the surface. He’s almost, almost disappointed, but it doesn’t mean he won’t stop looking smug, like he knows something you don’t know, Noct.

He tilts his chin upwards just a bit, as if wanting to physically display just how much he’s looking down his nose at the boy. What if he moves the spear from one hand to the other, a casual, flippant gesture, pretending to be born out of idleness? (When the truth is, he just wants to see the prince’s shoulders tense even more.)]

Oh, you don’t have to tell me that, Noctis. I know of the fallacies of arrogance all too well. [He often used it to his advantage, where the Empire was concerned. That so-called “fine line” was very visible to eyes that existed for thousands of years.] And I’m careful never to indulge myself in them.

[Contradictory words, coming from a man who smiles in such a way.]

Do you plan on striking me or just merely stand there with your hackles up? Do decide.

[kittycaterer]

[ That little voice in his head is telling him that the anger which starts to come to a boil is what Ardyn wants. But there is plenty on the line with the chancellor's being here. It's absolutely clear that this man is insane, set in his ways, and very much about catastrophe more than peace and the well-being of others. All that repeats in his mind over and over is how he'd fooled Noctis into pushing Prompto off the train, of him stabbing Luna and tossing her aside. He's destroyed his kingdom, his family, and there's no telling what threats he could pose in an entirely different universe. ]

[ His powers may be compromised here, and that's only wishful thinking on the basis that his powers have been compromised. The Ring of the Lucii which still rests around his finger has been rendered a mere heirloom. It's effects on his age and well-being are gone, thankfully, but the gods do not answer to its call here. For the time being, he keeps that to himself, even if Ardyn likely knows. ]

[ Gods, his voice tears at his skin, twists his gut. It's completely pointless to fight him, but the desire to teach him a lesson or use him as a means to release frustration is so prevalent. Simply turning on his heel and leaving will be far more shameful than expressing who should be in charge. This isn't his kingdom, or even his star, but he is still the rightful king no matter where he is. And that much must be made clear. ]

[ Noctis doesn't verbally reply. In fact, he disappears entirely from in front of Ardyn in a flash of blue. The prince appears in mid-air, behind Ardyn a few feet high with the intention of dropping down and striking him at the back. ]

[daemonized]

[Ardyn finds it amusing that the idea of self-restraint is such a fleeting notion where Noctis is concerned, the thought flickering through his head even as the boy disappears in a flash of blue, refracted light. It's in that moment that the man's grin hones into something decidedly more severe.

He's obviously no stranger to this sort of display, perhaps more familiar than Noctis gives him credit for. It's with this inherent familiarity that his instincts tell him to listen, to use his awareness of sound to know exactly where Noctis plans on reappearing, less than a second later. He does, and -- behind and above, it would appear.

Ardyn whirls on his heels, spear gripped tight in both hands now. His long coat whips behind him in a flourish at such a display; the shaft of the weapon catches against Noctis' blade, though it's mostly Ardyn's own strength that pushes back against the boy's influx of downward momentum.

The weapon he's found stored away in the armory is laughably not much of a match for a well-crafted, impeccably balanced Royal Arm, and its middle already bends due to the impact; thankfully, the ex-Chancellor does not intend to rely on it at all. He redirects the impetus behind Noctis' attack, pushing upwards and then twisting to the side.

If it's enough to throw the young prince off balance, then Ardyn will take advantage of the stagger by lashing out with a kick to the boy's torso; an almost inhuman sort of force behind the heel of his boot, intended to make him crash into the wall behind him, if he has his druthers.]

[kittycaterer]

[ He should know better than to work upon his anger, but there has arguably been plenty of buildup towards this moment. Noctis has been trapped here for a month, after just barely finding Prompto's whereabouts within the Keep. Spending hours with Ardyn's taunting only to never find him. This is his chance, foolish as he may be. ]

[ Noctis descends from above with a throaty, hoarse sort of cry that seems to sing in tune to the crack of his blade against Ardyn's chosen weapon. It's a poor choice, but Noctis has plenty of reason to believe Ardyn doesn't need it. That much is made clear as the shaft begins to bend and break under pressure. Noctis only barely feels a sense of the upper hand when he is mere inches from Ardyn's face, gaze hot and fiery when their eyes interlock. But there's a shift in Ardyn's stance that causes Noctis' eyes to widen, though he's far too late to react. ]

[ Just as Ardyn forcibly shifts Noctis' balance, the prince has no time to fully brace himself for the swift kick to his torso. It knocks the wind out of him, deflating him as he's forced to fly across the Armory. With the room spinning and his senses compromised from the pain, a warp in mid-air only barely kills the momentum. Noctis thinks he's getting himself away, when physics has him slamming against a wall of spears. At the very least, he's killed some of the impact, only causing a few weapons to clatter to the floor. Noctis is able to roll away from the danger of any blades falling upon him. ]

Sonofa--

[ But he's left on his knees, clutching his gut after his blade has long-since disappeared into thin air. Noctis struggles to get back on his feet, exhaling a hoarse grunt as he wipes at his mouth and stares across the room to his opponent. This is a bad, bad idea he's just thrown himself into, especially when he realizes he has yet to even see this guy fight. ]

[ The prince still extends his arm out again, calling upon the same blade. ]

[daemonized]

[The sound of Ardyn's laugh can be heard, timed perfectly with the noise of Noctis crashing into a wall. The weapons clatter to the ground, ringing out through the armory, and Ardyn tosses aside his spear, rendered useless by Noctis' blade.

It didn't matter, in any case. There were plenty of weapons lining the walls, some almost impressive-looking. And Ardyn, of course, keeps his own personal set close to him and hidden away, an Armiger that he chooses not to utilize, for the sake of continuing to play at deception. He may have only just arrived, and still hashing out the details concerning how his actions here might affect his plans in Eos (he shouldn't even have plans, not anymore, they should be fulfilled and he should be dead), but Ardyn errs on the side of caution regardless. A wise falcon keeps its talons hidden, or so the saying goes.

Not that the man looks as if he as any need to be cautious. He practically radiates an ugly patronization as he walks towards Noct in even, long strides. A hand reaches out and grasps at the hilt of a longsword as he passes by; he's barely even looked at it.]

What a royal disappointment. Care to try again?

[kittycaterer]

[ Why is he doing this? Why is he doing this? Something tells Noctis that his decision is so very foul and poorly-planned, but all the prince can seem to focus on is what this asshole has done to his friends and family. To his entire kingdom. This bastard had a hand in all of it, but him being here plays absolutely no part in anything at all. Ardyn is essentially at the same level as him, left in limbo. So why is he so dead-set on attacking someone that brings no consequence right now? ]

[ ... To make a point. ]

[ Noctis's posture is poor, slacking even as he sloppily gets back into his stance. He's still not in the best condition, but it's the thrill of making his point that keeps him going. Yes, his intentions are to show Ardyn that he is not welcome here, in Lucis, in Eos or any godsdamned universe he winds up in. Not after what he's done. And with Luna and Regis here? He intends to make that point very fucking clear. ]

[ Again, Noctis says nothing. There is nothing to say to this son of a bitch, and he tries to drive that point home with a head-on attack. Noctis releases a loud, hoarse sort of cry as his blade seeks to strike Ardyn along the legs, to knock him over. ]

[daemonized]

[The longsword he has now is better equipped than the shaft of a spear to take the hit; it’s a low block, one that crosses against Noctis’ Royal Arm to protect his legs — sparks quite literally fly from the impact of blades shearing into one another, and Ardyn twists his grin into something forceful as he attempts to push Noctis away again.

The boy was being sloppy. What was it a result of, tiredness? Complacency? A body worn from the trials and tribulations of this new, unknown place? Either way, Ardyn isn’t impressed; Noctis sliding into something weaker than what he was on Eos is the exact opposite of what he wants to see.

At the thought, he feels a spike of that ever-familiar bitterness, which prompts him to raise a knee to the prince’s chin. Swift, forceful, and not terribly difficult to do, given Noctis’ already low position after his prior attempt at an attack.]

You’ve gotten weaker. That’s highly disappointing, Noct. How are you supposed to protect any of your friends in a state like this? It’s pathetic.

[Prodding? Why, yes.]