dankmemes | TEST DRIVE MEME #4

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?]

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[Nick rolls her eyes. This is stupid, and considering how stupid things have been since she woke up and found herself here i stead of Vancouver, that's saying something.]

Look, lady, I don't give a shit which one you pick, so long as you pick one already.

[The sooner this is over, maybe the sooner she can get on with whatever approximation of life she has in this stupid place.]

Ahh, the young. So impatient. So impulsive.

[Bianca says this in a honeyed tone carefully calculated to irritate while retaining a plausibly deniable veneer of politeness.]

Feel free to open yours first, my dear. The young and vital should never allow themselves to be held back by the elderly.

[Will it be scorpions? She hopes it'll be scorpions.]

Edited 2016-01-01 22:52 (UTC)

[Nick glares at her. She's practically twenty-six now, thanks, and she enjoys this kind of irritating condescension about as much as she did when she was a child - which is to say she doesn't enjoy it at all. Not one bit.]

Fine, [she snaps, reaching for one of the gifts with exactly zero forethought. She rips through the paper and opens the box, then positively shrieks.

It's not scorpions. It's a carton of cigarettes, and Nick is elated, because do you know how long it's been since she's had a smoke? Entirely too fucking long.]

[Bianca does not literally feed on the annoyance of others, but the gleam in her eyes, the mischievous quirk of her lips, betray a certain sated satisfaction. It compensates her nicely for the mild disappointment of the cigarettes.

Not that she doesn't paste on a congratulatory smile anyway.]

What a thoughtful gift, my dear! How delightful! I suppose the little pleasures of existence are hard to come by, here?

Edited 2016-01-01 23:30 (UTC)

Goddamn right there are, I haven't had one of these in weeks.

[She's already ripped into the carton to produce a pack, eagerly unwrapping it, carelessly discarding the cellophane on the floor.]

You gonna quit fucking around and open yours now, or what?

You have a positively masterly way with words, my dear.

[But evidently Bianca has decided there's little more entertainment to be had out of continuing to linger, and she picks up the nearest gift and unwraps it with neat, economically decisive motions.

It turns out to be a purple satin-covered box of chocolates. Bianca lifts the lid to reveal a luxurious selection, every one decorated with a little smiley face in piped chocolate or icing.

At this she throws her head back and laughs in real, throaty amusement.]

Oh, well played, mysterious gods of gifting. Hope and fear in one delicious morsel, enrobed in the finest chocolate.

[She closes the lid without taking one, or even touching them.]

I shouldn't eat any of those, if I were you.

[That's a lot of words to use for "I got a box of chocolates," but OK, whatever. Nick's too busy lighting up a cigarette and inhaling a deep lungful of smoke to care about much of anything else at this point.]

Why would I wanna? They're not for me.

They certainly aren't. You haven't annoyed me nearly enough, dear child.

[She seems pleased, though, stroking the satin box lid with narrow-eyed smugness.]

I shall save them for special occasions.

[Nick purposely exhales smoke in Bianca's direction, because fuck you, she's not a child. Are you annoyed enough yet?]

Yeah, have fun with that, assuming you live long enough to see a special occasion again.

Why, what a delightful, sunny temperament you have, my dear. I feel so very welcomed.

How long have you been here?

[She rolls her eyes.]

Couple months, I guess. Long enough to see it's a fucking shithole of a place. Why?

It's always wise to learn about one's new home from the existing inhabitants. I can already tell you're resource-poor and toyed with by mysterious beings of great power - really, very much like my last place.

Better, in fact, since it doesn't appear to be currently consuming itself and dropping its denizens into the endless void between realities.

Nothin' mysterious about 'em. Fear's a creep and a total dick. Hope's not much better - less of a creep, but still an asshole. And apparently there's some chick named Rage who I'm supposed to be besties with, according to Fear.

[She rolls her eyes again and inhales another long lungful of smoke.]

Endless voids don't sound so bad in comparison, actually.

Edited 2016-01-05 02:43 (UTC)

I've yet to meet a god I could have any respect for. Though if they hold the power here, I daresay I can contrive to entertain them. I've done worse.

[She gives Nick her narrow-eyed cat-smile.]

But can you imagine anything more tedious?

[Well, actually.]

You ever worked karaoke night at a bar? 'Cause that's pretty fucking tedious.

[Bianca laughs, low and musical.]

Dear child. I owned one of Berlin's most successful nightclubs for decades. I never allowed myself to become bored.

Do you perform?

[There's a distinctly sour expression that overtakes Nick's features.]

Not anymore. I sang in a band for a while, though.

TEST DRIVE MEME #4

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