dankmemes | test drive meme #21

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!test drive

test drive meme #21

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 June 24th, and apps are open July 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: A LITTLE FRENZIED
[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.

Do you hear something weird? Some kind of strange, constant humming? Hopefully by now you know enough to know that it's probably not nothing, and maybe you should run. If you don't, well- the Door has brought in some Winter Lanterns, from the Bloodborne video game.

Winter Lanterns are rather hideous creatures that hum constantly and glow orange when they detect someone's presence. They can grab you with their tentacles and take a nice bite out of you, which is super fun, or they can mess you up just by looking at you too long. Yep, hanging out in the gaze of a Winter Lantern for too long will end with you being afflicted by Frenzy - blood shooting out all over the place. Not great for the health, really, so maybe don't get into a staring contest. Maybe just run.]

S O R R O W / L O V E

SCENARIO TWO: HAUNTED
[You thought you might never see them again, but now they're here. That person you loved - that person you miss terribly. Except that you seem to be the only person who can see them, and you also seem to be getting steadily weaker.

So that's what it comes down to, then. This ghost that's haunting you will take your life so it can live, even if it doesn't mean to. Do you have the ability to stop them? You'll have to kill them to do it, and you love them so much. Now's the time to make your choice - but be careful. They're strong enough to be visible now, and one of your friends or even a passing stranger might have something to say about your decision.

This is a mini version of our Ghosts That You Know event this month!]

T R A N Q U I L I T Y

SCENARIO THREE: SLEEPING SICKNESS
[For some reason you can't quite put your finger on, you're tired. Like really tired. Like slurring your words, stumbling over your own feet, nodding off if you stop for a second tired. You can't seem to get enough rest no matter what you try - because it's always a light sleep. The slightest sound or movement will wake you up, leaving you just as tired and irritable as before.

What are you going to do? Try to find a quiet place to nap? Good luck. It seems like a lot of other people have the same idea as you - it might be hard to find a truly empty place. Or maybe you just can't take it anymore, and you're going to lay down and take a nap right in the middle of the street. Or maybe you actually feel fine, but everyone around you is falling asleep - and they glare at you when you make the slightest sound.

Maybe you should wake them up? Sleeping in the middle of the street isn't exactly safe. But then, maybe you just want to join them and argue over who gets the most comfortable bit of road.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fear

[Nope. Nope. There are a lot of things Sharkface will put up with. Prison food. Field rations. Field rations that are inexplicably worse than prison food. Felix.

Weird, possibly alien monsters?

Yeah, no.

Thankfully, he has flamethrowers.

How do you like that, monster? How do you like being coated in napalm?

Should you come across the sight, you'll get a good view of an ex-space marine committing arson. And possibly murder. Are these things sentient? Sharkface has no idea. Sharkface, frankly, does not care.

Besides, burning shit alive is always a legitimate solution.

He's totally not giggling.]

Sorrow/Love

[There's a dead man sitting next to him. This should probably be concerning. It's CT all in armor, his girlfriend's helmet sitting next to him.

They're sharing a cigarette. Neither of them are wearing their helmets. Sharkface feels oddly tired, but comforted.

'Why the long face, Picasso?']

Don't worry about it, buddy.

Wildcard

[Hit me!]

[ Tucker's had some unpleasant wake-up calls before, but this ranks pretty high on the list... someone is apparently trying to roast him alive inside his armor. He curses loudly and rolls away from the flames, which apparently weren't being directed at him specifically but some alien creature in his vicinity, whose tentacles are now whipping everywhere as it's burned. This can't be the test, but stepping into it is the last thing he remembers. And he does seem to be in some kind of arena...

Luckily his sword is strapped to his thigh and he pushes himself up and powers it with a flick of his wrist, trying to see past the fire to whoever's using it. He's not certain over the roar of flame, but it sounds like someone's giggling maniacally. Because it wouldn't be a day ending in Y if there wasn't some kind of maniac around.

A tentacle flails in his direction and he slices it off, stepping farther out of the way.... and as he moves to the side he can see just who's throwing the flames. Shit. A space pirate. Maybe this is the test. But rushing a dude who's holding an active flamethrower is definitely not a good plan. Time to try a different tactic, and conveniently there's another tentacle monster (ohhhh the jokes he could make) coming up on their left. ]

Hey! [ He waves his sword to get the pirate's attention, gesturing wildly at the new creature. It's a gamble to see which the other soldier is more afraid of, aliens or him. While he's an impeccable badass, the aliens are more of a threat at the moment. ] To the left, man!

[Fuck, the slimy alien thing has friends. And one of those sim troopers that's been following the Freelancers around like idiotic puppies. Pragmatism wins out over pettiness. Besides, Sharkface doesn't have anything against the sim troopers. They're just in the way. And right now this one might keep him from getting slimed.

He shifts and centers himself, lining up the sights on his gauntlets. Only the sim trooper is standing right in his line of sight.]

Move, asshole!

[Last Wash saw this asshole, he was pumped full of lead, hitting the ground in a wet crunch of flesh to concrete. Got what he had coming to him, as far as he was concerned, as far as Kimball was concerned, and they'd mowed him down quick and easy.

Little harder to pick apart whether he should bother pointing a weapon at him for round two when they're being swarmed by things that sure as hell don't look like any Sangheili.

Wash has the stock of his assault rifle braced against his shoulder, clipping one of the Lanterns on the flank before one of them gets a tentacle-like appendage around his leg.

Whoops. Now Sharkface gets to prioritize which annoyance he feels like cutting down first.]

[There's one, there's more, and now there's a whole party like in the old movies CT liked, in the days before he was CT and the others were still breathing. It's a good old party, a proper showdown. Sharkface never really liked westerns. Too simplistic for his tastes.

This is a touch more interesting now that there's a Freelancer in the middle.

He thinks about it for half a second before making a choice, and turning his flame throwers onto the monster.

Dead men don't talk.]

Where's Carolina? Where the fuck is Agent Carolina?!

[He keeps the flame level even when the monster's down and twitching. This one might have freaky armor but fire tends to even the odds. It's a psychological thing.]

[Shit.

Even if he felt like aiding and abetting an Insurrectionist rando with a vicious fixation on one person of many that comprised Project Freelancer, Wash's days of selling out the people he used to work with are over.

Long over.

He kicks the dying thing away from him but keeps his weapon up, finger over the trigger.]

What makes you think I know? I just got here.

Don't. Lie.

[Carolina has to burn, she has to die knowing what she did. Sharkface has started putting a list together of all the Freelancers, every last one of them still above ground, and just as soon as they're done with the mess on Chorus he's going to go through that list one by one. He'll leave the support personnel alone - they're pointless, just people - but the agents, the ones who pulled the trigger, they're going to die. All of them.

Starting with Carolina. And she's going to die burning until Sharkface stomps every last shard of -- whatever bullshit she was trying to pull the last time. It wasn't sympathy. It wasn't.

He activates his flame throwers. Just enough to show he could. Agent Washington isn't at the top of the list. Agent Washington can die last so long as Carolina burns.]

I'm not!

[But it's already plain to him that argument won't do much good against this asshole. He won't let up until he hears what he wants to hear, which is an answer that Wash doesn't have. Wash tucks and rolls, straightening to avoid the hot burst of flame.]

You wanna save that firepower for the things behind you?

[What is it that's behind Sharkface, exactly?

Nothing.

But Wash isn't above a ploy of made you look if it means he can cut and run while he still can.]

[He doesn't look but he tenses, and that's enough. One moment of distraction and --]

Get. Back here!

[Okay, he's going to run? Fuck that guy. Sharkface will just chase the fucker.]

[Yep! He's running! Not the most dignified tactic, he knows full well, but fuck it if he's going to hang around and let Mr. Fire And Water over here try to light him up like the Fourth of July. Wash jerks around just long enough to open fire, trying to head him off.

He won't waste breath on telling the guy something he won't wanna hear.]

[No, no, no! His source of information is not going to just get away like that. Not when he's so close, not when he's already beaten Carolina once. Remember the plan and do it again, easy, one scratched off the list. But it has to be Carolina, it has to be, and so Sharkface needs Wash alive for now. Corpses are useless.

Maybe he'll just shoot the fucker a few times. That seems fair. That seems like a good idea.

They do that for a while. Bullets are exchanged. Armor is burned.

It doesn't go well.

Sharkface has a few rules and one of those is never let anyone keep you on your knees. Knock you down, sure. Just get back up and hurt them worse. But never fall so badly you can't get back up again.

Only problem is that his legs don't want to cooperate. His knee's fucked up, won't carry the weight, and Agent Washington is just. Standing there.

Sharkface spits a curse, doesn't bother going for his pistol.]

What? What? Is that all you've got?

[He's lucky, for the most part. He's still one of the worst of his squad, and being the most competent out of a mess of poorly trained sim troopers doesn't necessarily make him extraordinary. Still, there's enough of the environment to make use of to pull him through.

He could shoot the bastard a second time, but who's to say he won't get up from that too? Wash huffs out a sigh, the muzzle of his rifle dipping slightly - but only slightly. He can't help but sound thoroughly fucking exasperated, staring at the other guy incredulously.]

What's it gonna take for you to stop getting back up again?

[The HUD display is flashing damage reports. Sharkface ignores that. It doesn't matter. He's still breathing, he can fight.]

You don't get it, do you? I will always--

[There's pain then. There's a lot of pain. His HUD is flashing red warning lights and it feels like his knee is full of knives.

Sharkface screams. And lunges for Agent Washington with his tactical knife.

He doesn't get very far.]

[He will always hunt them. Yeah, he got that impression the first time around. The guy jerks forward with a knife in hand, but Wash only has to open fire, a spray of bullets to knock the attacking Winter Lantern back.]

Would you cut it out?

Stop moving!

[Hold still and die. Or finish the fight for real. It's all very simple, it's the easiest possible thing in the world. And yet, somehow, they're staring at each other like two assholes in a bad movie. Sharkface hates being on the ground. Hates that he has to crane his neck to stare at Washington and the place his eyes are hiding, behind the tactical gear.

Walking involves standing upright. His knee isn't cooperating.

Fine, he'll crawl. His arms are strong.]

You killed my family.

[He's literally crawling to try and...what? Claw Wash's eyes out? Disassemble him by hand?

You know what? Wash actually wouldn't be surprised. The guy's already proven that he doesn't give two shits as to what's dignified, as long as he gets his way.]

A lot of people have lost their families, pal. You don't see the rest of us hunting down every last person who ever did us wrong.

Shut up and die!

[This whole thing is ridiculous. Sharkface can feel laughter bubbling up in his throat, laughter he doesn't know what to do with or where to put. Washington isn't moving to shoot him, isn't even stepping back to avoid the swiping knife when Sharkface lunges at him. It doesn't land, he miscalculated the distance and his HUD is still blaring damage damage damage--

Enough of that. He twists, popping the seal on his helmet and tossing it away. Damage reports are useless. He can still fight. As long as he's breathing he can fight. He glares up at Washington. There, now it's easy.]

What are you waiting for?

[What are you waiting for?

Off comes the helmet, toppling to the ground just as it had moments before he died, swearing bloody vengeance on every last one of the Freelancers who remained. All two of them.]

I'm kinda wondering if killing you again is gonna do anything at this point, actually.

[Sharkface does laugh that time. It catches in his throat, comes out ugly.]

Then fucking do it already.

[Fight or finish it, easy. He's made it very easy now, so why--?]

Well, if I did it now, I'm kinda worried that you'll just get back up again, and I dunno if I really wanna waste the ammo.

[This is just...his life now. If it sounds like he's not taking Sharkface here seriously, it's probably because, on some level, he isn't. He's just too goddamn tired, and too goddamn much has happened for his fuck-giving capacities to handle. He's burned out on giving a fuck today. Maybe tomorrow.]

[....

What.

Sharkface just stares at him. Shakes his head suddenly. No, no way. It doesn't go like this.]

Then hold still while I kill you.

[He takes another swing at Washington's ankles.]

[Jesus christ, dude. It's clear this guy speaks only one language, and that of words isn't it. Wash skips backwards, suppressing, barely, an exasperated sigh.]

Are you - can you just quit it for two seconds? You know we're not alone down here, right?

[He doesn't feel like shooting Winter Lanterns and Sharkface over here, because he's kind of worried that the minute he turns his back, Sharkface is just gonna get right the hell back up for round two.]

[....okay you know what? He's been a little busy with the attempted murder to actually think about their location. And he'd figured that Felix was being an asshole again and deliberately left that bit out of the mission briefing. Hostile native monster things? Ahahaha yeah, whoops, totally didn't do that on purpose, Fishsticks!

Only it seems like the freelancer doesn't know what the hell is going on either.

Sharkface glares up at him.]

You fuck up our tech again? Because those transporters tend to explode.

You realize there are more people in the universe than just Freelancers, right?

[Forgive him for snapping, but actually? Don't. Don't forgive him. Because this entire situation keeps fucking escalating into the absurd.]

I don't know where we are anymore than you do, all right? Hell, I don't even know what those things, [and he indicates the Lanterns with a jerk of a helmeted chin,] are supposed to be - other than hungry.

Chorus is not a popular vacation spot!

[Though it's looking increasingly likely that they are not, in fact, on Chorus anymore. Sharkface considers the alien things. Apparently the dead ones have friends. Apparently they don't like their better halves being set on fire and shot into tiny weeping pieces.

Sharkface narrows his eyes. The glass one is starting to ache.]

Help me up and I'll burn them.

Sharkface | Red vs. Blue | ota

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