TEST DRIVE MEME #4

[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 December 25th, and apps are open January 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, 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: A FACE FIT FOR A MEME
[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 trolls, from the Dungeons and Dragons tabletop roleplay series for you meet.

These trolls have a height of nine feet and weigh up to five hundred pounds. They may be slower and less intelligent than you, but their regenerative abilities make them difficult to kill. Trolls are capable of healing nonfatal damage dealt to them and can use simple tools, like swords and knives- all the better to incapacitate you so they can roast you alive!]


SCENARIO TWO: RED SNOW
[It's cold. A layer of snow envelops the city, turning the caves into a winter wonderland. Feel free to have snowball fights, scrounge for blankets and coats (there's never enough to go around), and make snow angels! It's just like back home during the holidays, isn't it?

That is, if your home had yeti and white walkers roaming around trying to kill you. Be careful when wandering out and about, because they seem to blend in with the snow, and they definitely want a snack.

Or, uh, to raise you from the dead to murder your friends at their behest. Either way, you're dead.

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


H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: HOPE FOR THE HOLIDAYS
[You're sitting on a couch in a living room. All around you are hints of magic- the mirrors seem to flicker with moving objects and people, the fireplace crackles with light, but no heat. There's a Christmas tree in the corner with soft, glowing lights that are unattached to any sort of wires.

Underneath the tree are four presents- two of them clearly marked for you, two of them clearly marked for the other person in the room with you. Inside one of these gifts is something you badly want- a stack of cash, a magical bow, an out-of-print book- but inside the other is something a little less pleasant. There may be spiders or snakes, or the box may be empty but coated in acid. It could be a wolf in sheep's clothing- wonderful-looking fruits, rotted on the inside- or it could just be a particularly nasty smell.

You can only open one, and there's no way to know which is which. Which gift will you choose?]

Comments

Rey | OC

[circumitus]

scenario two.

The cold doesn't touch Rey. Not when the heat radiates from her blood, through her skin. She can actually be found wandering the snowy paths, her arms exposed by a sleeveless shirt. A pair of cargo pants and combat boots just barely seem appropriate for this winter setting.

What one won't find her doing is making angels or ammunition with the snow to throw at people. She knows that she is being followed by something in the icy veil, and something out there is seeking her out.

Despite being armed with only her own two bare hands, she glances over her shoulder and only raises her brows in dull surprise at her pursuer. A pale-shaped creature, stalking her among the mist.

It can barely be seen through the cold and falling snow, but it's there: Heatwaves, radiating around her.

Just too bad that fire won't harm a White Walker...

scenario three.

Rey had never celebrated Christmas before. It just wasn't something that happened in her many false memories and lifelines, neither did she spend the last six years with what little family she had partaking in the holiday. Not when you live with a Jainist father and a brother who was raised Jewish.

Still, she understood the concept of gifts, though the presents are met with suspicion as she picks one up from under the tree and inspects it from her kneeling position. This one has her name on it. Just Rey, no-last-name.

"Don't suppose either of these are from you?" she asks the other person in the room.

3.

[synthedick]

"I was about to ask you the same question," Nick answers from the other side of the tree, eyeing the two presents with his own name on them as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. He's familiar with the holiday, but he can't say anyone really celebrates such things anymore -- not where he comes from, at least. In a world where every day is a struggle to survive, gift-giving and the kind of altruism that comes with it is rare, at best. It's a trait that's unfortunately known for getting folks killed.

Not to mention he doesn't have any family to celebrate with. Friends, acquaintances, yes; family, no. Synths don't have such things.

He circles around the tree at a slow pace, his yellow eyes cast downward on the presents at his feet as he reaches Rey. The gifts she's inspecting have her name on them, or so he assumes from her question; she's welcome to come to the same conclusion regarding his packages, the tags on his gifts reading Nick Valentine. There's even a heart drawn around his surname -- a nice touch.

Four presents: two for him, two for her, and neither of them know who they're from. They're off to a good start already.

"I can't think of anyone here who would want to give me a present in the first place."

three

[closerift]

"No, but I can guess who left them here."

It isn't difficult, with 99.9% of things that happen in Hadriel being easily attributed to either Hope or Fear. Cecily casts a faintly wary glance at the stranger, not surprised by her presence, but not recognizing her, either. It seems as if the monthly draw of new and unfortunate arrivals has struck again.

"I wouldn't open them if I were you," the Inquisitor says coolly, eyeing the other two boxes that bear her own name (Cecily Trevelyan). "Our hosts aren't known for their generosity."

Only for their complete bullshit.

2!

[healplz]

Ashraf isn't concerned by the glimpses of movement he's caught through the snow, but he is cold. Super cold. He's a desert guy, he wasn't built for this. So he looks a little miserable when he comes into sight, ornate robes pulled in close around him and arms wrapped around his body. He brightens quickly when he spots someone else though; he clearly hasn't yet spotted anything over her shoulder.

"You look far less cold than you should!" he calls as he hurries toward her, already looking impressed with his eyes on her clothes. "What's your secret?"

captain hook ⚓once ( SPOILERS FOR S5a!!!)

[villainously]

RED SNOW
( he hates the snow. at the moment, it's a rather bitter reminder of where he isn't. the snow falling sticks in his hair and falls on too-cold skin as he glares at the landscape, as if he can melt the offending fluff with sheer determination. so far no luck, though if he really wanted to make at least some of it disappear, he supposes he could.

making the snow melt isn't likely to make him feel any better, though. having all the magic in the world doesn't seem to help the pains festering in his chest.

he should stay inside, because he can sense the things wandering out in the white, even though he doesn't see them at the moment. he's not sure if that's a sense of magic, or hearing that is far too sharp for his liking. he can't say he's afraid, though, and why would he be? there's not much that can kill him now, and he's the only one wielding the weapon that can. he's not worried about the things hidden in the mix of snow and darkness. )

I don't think you want to do that. ( it's a wry comment to someone walking past him, though he seems disinterested in actually stopping them. no, incredibly vague warnings are much more the dark one style! )

HOPE FOR THE HOLIDAYS
( he's never celebrated Christmas, and frankly he's not super interested in starting now. what on earth did the tree need lights for? murder a tree for no good reason for the sake of festivity, what was the point of that? he's more curious about the magic at first, because he can't quite understand it and that's a new circumstance, considering he's known too much about magic since Emma cursed him.

in the end he's too impatient to get up and fetch the boxes himself, he instead waves a hand and all four find a place in front of his feet. he lifts one with a hook to note the tag, before tossing it toward his company. )

I'm guessing that's yours.

( he's had all sort of titles and monikers in his time, but that's not one of them. )

What are these supposed to be?

two weirdos explore christmas

[64th]

[ Cashmere catches the box, glances at the tag, and turns a little red when she sees the label. Beebs - a nickname bestowed upon her in childhood and used only by family. it's embarrassing. how fucking dare you, Christmas. ] Thanks. [ she does not sound super thrilled about the present. or that he saw the tag. or any of this. ]

Gifts. [ so helpful. ] Apparently that's what people do for this holiday. Decorate and exchange presents. Though I wouldn't normally open something if I didn't know who it was from. That's just asking for trouble.

[ she shakes the box anyway, because why the hell not. it doesn't make any sound at all, and Cashmere looks annoyed. ] Are you gonna open one?

cole | dragon age: inquisition

[residuals]

one | who is that meme i see, staring straight back at me?

[ he doesn't like it here. the buildings are taller, straighter than he's used to; shadows darker, longer, meaner, an impressive feat when compared to the Spire. he's been searching for a sky, for the sun, for hours now, and found no sign of it, and yet the clouds, the air itself... it doesn't make sense here, and he doesn't like it at all.

at least he has his daggers, Cole thinks, and almost on impulse, he slides one into his palm as he continues down the street. it's a good impulse, he finds, when a roar off to his right shakes the air, and Cole freezes, jumps away when a huge figure comes barreling toward him. it's easy to fall back on instinct: vanish from view, jump on the ogre's back, dig his daggers in deep and rip. the ogre falls, as he expects it to, and there's a moment of confusion when he realizes that it doesn't look like the ogres he's fought before. if not one of those, then what is it?

what he doesn't expect is for it to get back up, nor for a nearby door to open. Cole runs over to stop them, and maybe he forgets that he's got bloody daggers in his hands. ]

No! Get back inside, it isn't safe!

three | knew a spirit of hope once. he was a dick.

[ the mirrors don't bother him, not after seeing what Morrigan had stashed away in Skyhold. the fires surprise him, however; they're different from Vivienne's, and Cole spends a good minute or two sitting in front of them and skimming his fingers through the flames. ]

Strange. It flickers and dances, but it isn't real. How does it work?

[ the boxes are completely forgotten. they don't hold any special interest to him; Cole never celebrated Satinalia when he was alive, and holidays at the Spire were never so cheerful. he's already studied the tree, wondered if the lights were borrowed from the Fade, but it's unclear. they don't feel like ghostlights, but it could be possible.

he's reminded of Skyhold, somewhat: cheery and welcoming, but with a quieter, somewhat uncomfortable note beneath it. it sets him on edge, just a little bit, though he doesn't bother turning to address whoever else might be in the room. ]

They're not mine. [ he's too busy studying the way the cold flames part around his fingers to care about pointing to the gifts, and can't read the labels to know two of them are for him. ] Did somebody leave them for you?

Three

[theresolve]

[Rainier has to resist the urge to physically pull Cole back from the fire - the flames aren't damaging, but there's still the desire to keep him from it since he clearly doesn't understand do not stick your hand in potentially harmful things. The kid is going to make him go gray.

Rainier looks down at the boxes and away from Cole when he mentions them. There are two with his name on it, 'T. Rainier' in neatly printed handwriting. However, while he's looking, he notices what his illiterate friend misses.]

Two of them have your name on it, here - [He takes one of them, holding the tag out to show Cole.] C, O, L, E, that spells 'Cole'.

one

[closerift]

Of course it isn't- Cole?

[ The Inquisitor does a little double-take, bouncing immediately from mild exasperation to stark surprise. Her gaze flickers past him to the troll that's risen a short distance away. It's not a monster she's seen before, but the trend of unknown beasts isn't unfamiliar, considering the months she's now been in Hadriel. ]

It's all right, he isn't anything to worry about. [ Cecily says in a low voice, encouragingly, but her eyes are on the troll. It's a good thing she doesn't go anywhere in their temporary city-home without the weapon strapped to her back, and before long she removes the bow and holds it ready, staring intently at their ugly foe with scrutiny. ]

Are you hurt? [ She asks, glancing sideways at the boy, wondering distantly if he'd arrived alone, what he may or may not remember. ] Can you fight?

[ Naturally, what she means is 'can you fight now;' Cecily is well aware of the rogue's abilities, how he's kept them from the fire in more than one case. ]

three

[sparkler]

Magic, I assume.

[And Dorian kneels down next to Cole and sticks his hand right in the flames, too. How are you supposed to figure things out if you aren't willing to take a few risks? Besides, it clearly wasn't hurting Cole. He retrieves his hand once he's properly satisfied that it isn't actual fire.]

But not any that I recognize. Odd.

[His attention turns to the brightly-wrapped packages, and he picks one up, reading the names on the labels.]

Two of them are for me, and two are for you. A secret admirer, perhaps?

Kylo Ren | Star Wars

[darthvaderfanboy]

[Spoilers likely!]

Scenario Two

[From a snow-covered weaponized planet to streets covered in more of the stuff. Great. At least he's dressed for the snow, his mask and gloves keeping his extremities warm as he moves through the slush. Kylo pauses in the middle of the street, his hand straying to the lightsaber clipped at his belt. He can sense that there's something watching him in the snow, but he can't see anything but the large snowbanks and the buildings surrounding him.

The deafening roar is the only warning he gets before the yeti bursts out of the nearest snowbank, lunging at him with a clawed hand. His lightsaber ignites and he quickly slashes at the yeti's arm. This produces another roar from the creature, this one of pain as a few claws are severed. This place just keeps getting better and better.

His bloodlust up, he readily engages the beast in battle, darting in and slashing away at it with the skills of an expert swordsman. A dark knight slaying a monstrous beast, just like in a fairy tale. The irony is lost on him, though anyone who is watching the battle might see the parallels.]


Scenario Three

[The beauty of the scene is lost on the Knight of Ren. He's not made for such a comfortable scene. Battlefields and space ships are more to his liking than such a peaceful setting. It can be seen in the tense set of his shoulders and the way his hand occasionally passes over his lightsaber. What he's thinking beneath his silver-black mask is anyone's guess.

The presents intrigue him and garner his suspicions at the same time. He's not used to getting something for nothing. There has to be a trade-off here. Still, maybe this peaceful scene really is all it appears to be on the surface. Seeing the other name on the two presents gives him an idea.]

You go first. [He says, nudging one of the boxes towards the other person with a booted foot. They can serve as a guinea pig for what might be in store for him if he tears open the wrapping paper.]

Scenario Three

[casperdisaster]

[Noah looks away from the glittering lights that had previously held his abject fascination. He looks at Kylo Ren, at the mask, down at the package.

He's wary. That' much is clear - Noah never had much of a poker face.]

My friend Adam got a pinata a few months ago, [Noah's quiet as he explains, hold your horses dude there is a point to this story. He very carefully shifts to sit on the floor, pulling the package that was nudged toward him to be next to him, He doesn't yet move to open it though.] colorful paper, the works. It was filled with scorpions.

[Noah makes a face like 'ew'.

They'd broken it open in the middle of a store and decided that it was best left exactly where it was. Hopefully no one else had needed bathroom fixtures, because those belonged to the scorpions. He very carefully picks up the package - it's about the size of a basketball - and gives it a very light experimental shake next to his ear to listen at it.]

... Do you know what a box full of scorpions would sound like?

[Because Noah realizes only belatedly that he has no idea.]

Natasha Romanoff | Avengers: Age of Ultron

[debtings]

A Face fit for a meme

[She'd been trying to lay low, blend in and try to find out more about her benevolent hosts. Things had just started to slow down back home - enough of a lull to rebuild - refocus. She didn't have time for this kind of mess. While her uniform was handy in fights, the cat suit isn't exactly designed for long-term exposure. Add on top of that the black stuck out like a sore thumb against the sea of white around her? Well, venturing too far out into the apparent Winter Wonderland was out of the question. So she stuck to the streets of the city - keen eyes scanning the area around her.

And that's when she spots it.

Something... Something not human.

A shift on the roof to the left of her. Whatever it is, it's big and focused on her. Everything within her shifts from passive observation to fully attuned and ready to fight. Natasha moves off of the main street, heading towards an alley that might give her a few vantages for an escape if needed.

She hears the thud as it descends from the roof behind her and --]

Well, you sure did eat your Wheaties.

[Natasha barely gets her quip out before it lunges at her. She skillfully dodges, skirting beneath its mass so she's behind it. She barely waits a moment before kicking off of a nearby wall to try and reach its arms or even shoulders to grab onto. If she could possible stun it with her Widow's Bites and if that didn't work, she always had the disks. Thank God they hadn't taken her weapons away from her. After a few tries, finding the stuns weren't quite enough - she sticks as many of the discs she has on her on the troll in the hopes that if it didn't kill it, the zap would be enough to at least knock it out for a little while. Gunfire wasn't an option right now, not when she didn't know if there were more in the area that could come running at the loud sound. It was time to take it down as quietly as possible and find a spot to re-evaluate and regroup.

The troll jerks when she triggers the disks, the behemoth falling with a resounding thud as she casually tumbles off of it. With a soft exhale, she starts moving back out of the alley and brushes off her uniform when she notices something.]

Son of a -- I broke a nail.

[It's the little things, really. Please don't mind the crumpled troll behind her. Best to keep moving.]

Hope for the Holidays

[Holidays aren't really something she's ever spent a lot of time focusing on. Not with her work, both before and after SHIELD. Forming ties like that were dangerous in her line of work, building lasting relationships. It's only a matter of time before they possibly come to light and could get hurt. Like Clint's family. They mean the world to her and she would do everything possible to protect them, but she wasn't foolish enough to think they could be kept secret from everyone forever. She lets her thoughts drift as her hand hovers by the flames, giving a little sigh when there's no heat. Figures nothing about this place would qualify as normal.

After refocusing and continuing her silent exploration of the room, she finally spots her name on the two boxes. Her full name. If the fakeness of the environment around her wasn't disconcerting enough, this was certainly the icing on the cake. She doesn't want to touch them let alone open them... But, better she takes them before someone else sees something she's not quite ready to share. She's not in the mood for questions, even if it would most likely be answered with a lie. After lightly flicking one of the lights on the tree, more out of curiosity than boredom, she turns to the other person in the room. Her lips form a smirk, deflecting her worry for something more familiar.]

You shouldn't have.

[zen_en_vert]

[Bruce is a little unrecognizable under all the scarf, mittens, hat and whatnot- and ducking out from behind a mess of rubble where he'd been avoiding all of that; but when he hears her complain a broken nail he laughs as he straightens up and pulls all the wool back.]

I'm sorry to hear that.

[But;]

But I'm very glad you're here.

ashraf salib | ragnarok online oc

[healplz]

#2

[ A tall man in ornate robes trudges through the snow like he's always been trudging through the snow. He looks unarmed save for two golden rods tipped with crosses held in a loop at his belt, and snow has started collecting in his hair and on his shoulders. He spots something flickering through the snow ahead of him, and while it's made him pause thoughtfully from his aimless forward march and try to peer ahead for a better look, he doesn't seem overly concerned. Whatever it is out there, human or otherwise, he's certain it won't be much of a threat.

He is, though, pretty cold. He's stuffed his hands into pockets of his fancy robes, but he's sadly unprepared for snow. Which is unfortunate, because he's just come from snow. Really, he should know better by now. He sighs, mostly at himself, and pulls his hands out of their pockets to rub them together. It's not worth much, but it's something. ]

If whatever is out there would like to eat me, I'd like to get this over with.

[ He calls it out to the white landscape ahead of him in general, and looks resigned to his fate. He could really use someone with a weapon around here, it would make all this go so much faster... ]

#3

[ Ashraf is more interested in the room than the presents, truth be told. The objects around them are of considerable interest, and he's currently peering into the mirror in what could be mistaken for a bizarrely interested display of vanity, if you hadn't spotted the earlier out of place flickers from it. ]

Have you ever been in this room before?

[ That's addressed to whoever his company is, though he doesn't actually look away from the mirror, and lifts a finger to tap on it. A pretty natural reaction to suddenly finding yourself in a new place with a new person and a handful of wrapped gifts, he feels. ]

two

[respired]

[Koltira finds something uncomfortably familiar in the white walkers. Their eyes burn the same blue as his do, and they have the same mindless devotion to violence that he once did (that he often still does). They attack indiscriminately, and without mercy, and the bitter chill of death rolls off of them like the winter wind itself. Yet he knows, through his sense of these things, that his opponent is not undead.

Koltira hears a man calling out nearby, near to where Koltira's presently crossing swords with one of the walkers. Byfrost sings angrily as it strikes the white walker's icy sword, as though something in the sword's crystalline formation is trying to break the blade. Runeblades are no ordinary steel, though.

Koltira calls back as he parries a swift strike to his flank, scowling at both the unsuspecting man and the relentlessness of his opponent.]

Stay where you are!

#2

[jackoboyce]

[It's too bad that the thing tracking him is a patient creature. At first, all that Ashraf is going to spot is the flickering of a dark shadow behind buildings and trees as he walks.

Even after he calls out, nothing seems willing to jump out straight away.

It's only a little later that it begins to start tracking him in earnest. It is very tall and massively built, with dark, wiry hair covering its hunched body and dusted in snow. Red and black rags still cling to it in places, and it seems to be leaving a light skimming of red as it trails behind the man. It's one of those things that people might misinterpret as a monstrous wolf, but it's not nearly as pretty.

The next time that Ashraf catches sight of it, it gives a low, gut-rumblingly sonorous growl and stalks fully out of hiding. Ahsraf might be looking for warmth, but this thing is looking for its next meal.]

sam winchester ♦ supernatural ( coming in here late af but better late than never right? )

[hollowly]

fit for a meme → it never gets any easier, does it?

( well. it's not exactly as if this has never happened before – waking up in a strange place, alone, bereft of any knowledge of how or why he'd ended up there in the first place – and at least the reassuring weight of his gun tucked into the waistband of his pants is there, nice and cozy against his back, the one thing that doesn't have him immediately panicking about getting back to where he belongs.

his head feels fuzzy around the edges, like he's trying to work through a dense fog that covers everything around him, and even as he squints at his surroundings and doesn't immediately see anything, there's a distinct feeling – one that raises the fine hairs at the back of his neck – that he's being watched, and it immediately sets him on edge. watchful, careful and cautious, ready to reach for his gun the moment something seems out of place.

he's not quite expecting to run into a troll, though. ( when is anyone ever expecting to run into a troll? that shouldn't even be a thing. )

it has a good three feet on him in height – not that hard to do when you consider monsters and the like, even if he is something of a giant – and it's far off enough that he's not in any immediate danger, but he's reaching behind his back, curling fingers around the butt of his gun and already thumbing off the safety. just in case worse comes to worst and there's no time for further forward planning.

he could … probably use some help right about now. come now, before that hing notices him and decides to make a bloody, squishy mess of his head. )

hope → is this what christmas is really supposed to be like? where's the whiskey?

( this is certainly much, much different from a christmas spent in a seedy motel room. he's never had much experience with how these things are supposed to go, and even though he's gotten a taste of domestic life and doesn't feel so out of his element, it's still a little … weird.

especially considering that fire isn't giving off any heat. that's a bit more mind-boggling than he cares to admit. ( and really isn't the thing he should be concentrating on, all things considered. )

his gaze focuses briefly on the tree in front of him, the gifts nestled beneath it before closing some of the distance between, curiosity getting the better of him so much to the point that he kneels before the ones clearly marked for him. brows furrowed in that way of his when he's thinking particularly hard, fingertips reaching out to gently trace over the wrapping as though it might give him some clue as to what's in either of the packages.

he's not good at this. this whole picking-and-choosing thing. this is ridiculous. )

trooooooolls in the cave city

[bekommen]

[Well, shit. Nick is happy to mind her own business and expects everyone else to more or less do the same, but these monsters in this place, they just seem to have other ideas about that.

It's not like Nick's got some kind of hero complex or anything. She may not like people on general principle, but leaving someone to die bloody ... that just doesn't sit well with her. Besides, this dude doesn't look noticeably armed, and - well, she may not have much to offer in the way of combat abilities, but she can provide a good distraction. It's the one thing that she's learned about herself since she got yanked to this hellhole.

So she tiptoes a little closer, waving to get his attention, whisper-shouting:]

Psst! Hey!

hope ✠ joining the late club

[hotspurred]

[It says something about Henry that in a room designed to invoke comfort, he paces restlessly, agitation prickling under his skin. He'd thought himself done with fighting hordes of monsters, so the knowledge that they roam outside is bitter. He cannot know whether his allies were transported here too, and if so, how they fare. He hates that he can only worry.

Is this all part of God's plan? he wonders in disbelief, over and over.

It's not long before he grows impatient with the futile circling of his own thoughts, and ceasing his pacing, shifts his focus onto the other person in the room. He watches without comment for a short moment, then stalks over.]

Choose one already.

[Henry suggests, scornful of prolonged indecision on what he views as an inconsequential choice.]

Tommy Riordan | Warrior | 3

[offatank]

You know the saying 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth'? Tommy doesn't know it. He'd be too busy trying to figure out what to do with a three-legged horse to worry about its age, because that is the kind of gift he'd get.

He's sitting on the floor with his two packages in front of him, and he hasn't so much as touched them since he moved them.

"Look, why don't you go first," he finally mutters, because he needs to know how bad this can get.

[acedefective]

Ordinarily, Junpei would have Serious Questions about why he's apparently spending Christmas with a complete stranger (much less a dude), but. Well. After getting tossed around first Discedo and then Demeleier, he's come to expect a certain amount of weirdness as the new normal for his life. And hey! At least there's presents. Maybe this won't suck entirely.

"You sure, dude?" He's been staring at the two marked for him, unsure of which to choose. "Maybe we should flip a coin or somethin'."

Marla Mason | Marla Mason Series

[felport]

[Red Snow]

Yeti she can deal with. White walkers, well, those are new and smart money would have her avoiding them.

But this is Marla and she prefers risky business, so she wads up a chunk of ice in a snowball and hurls it as hard as she can. For funsies, she wraps a spell around it that will make the snow stick, and slow the creature it lands on.

[heavyheels]

Oh for the -

What is wrong with people? OK, maybe not everyone has had to contend with hostile faeries for the last however-many months, maybe this is the first time encountering this sort of thing for some people, so maybe Chie should be a little more understanding ... but come on. Throwing snowballs at monsters should be a fairly no-brain no thing, right?

Chie stands a short distance away, fists on her hips, an unhappy expression settled on her face. She sighs loudly. "Sheesh, are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Bianca | Doctor Who expanded universe | 3

[wormintheglass]

[Bianca nearly purrs as she strokes the wrapping, teases the curled ribbons in her white fingers; then she puts it aside to examine the other.]

For little me? You shouldn't have.

[She has yet to open either: the anticipation, she has discovered, is almost always better than the denouement and Bianca has learned to draw this stage out as long as possible. She tilts her head at her companion and coos.]

I am helpless. An embarrassment of riches! You choose.

[mightthinkthat]

[ Francis looks at his own packages with something akin to puzzled curiosity. He isn't immune to what Bianca's up to, purring will do that, but only when she talks to him does he look over at her.

His eyebrow rises at her suggestion. ]

You'd like me to choose which gift is, well, a gift? ..If I kill you, will you be very angry?

chie satonaka | persona 4 | the actual latest

[skullcracker]

one.

OK, well. Trolls are a kind of fae, right? So this is nothing new for Chie; she's spent the past five months fighting fae of all shapes and sizes. The only difference here is the fact that she's no longer in a forest.

But that's OK; this is fine. Really. Just another day on the job, really. People to rescue, monsters to fight, miles to go before a fitful night of nightmare-ridden sleep. Chie sets a determined expression on her face and trudges onward.

two.

The snow, though - that's something Chie doesn't expect and isn't actually prepared for. Her trusty, tattered track jacket isn't terribly effective at cutting the cold, and she's wearing a skirt, for crying out loud - to no one's surprise, she's hopping around shivering in a matter of minutes.

Hopping, shivering, and attracting some unwanted attention. Oops.

three.

It's a little early for Christmas, by Chie's clock, but who the hell knows anymore, really. Chie sure doesn't. All she knows is this is definitely weird. Probably a trick of some kind. Right? Well, best to confer with the other person here in the room, anyway.

"It has to be some kind of trap, don't you think?" She may not be the smartest student in class, but she's seen enough horrors lately to know that anything that seems too good to be true probably is.

3

[ingloriousdead]

Christmas is one of those holidays Hel views with mixed amusement and disdain. What do you get when you mix sacred traditions from various religions and throw in a healthy dose of modern consumerism and attachment to objects? Pretty much exactly the room she finds herself in now, with the young human girl stating the obvious.

Taking a drag off the lit cigarette in her hand, the tall, angular woman waves the other in a vague gesture towards the tree. "What, you don't believe someone in this place would leave strangers gifts unattended in boxes that happen to have the correct names on them?" Her voice is dry, faintly sardonic. Of course she doesn't believe that. Neither does the girl, not really.