dankmemes | 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

[Wash tucks and rolls at that, snapping his assault rifle from the mag-clamp on his back and bringing it smoothly to his shoulder in a fluid motion.]

I was gonna kill you again.

[He hasn't yet, even if he's halfway tempted. But mostly he just wants to walk the fuck away.]

[Sharkface tenses.]

Again?

Right after Carolina beat you into the ground. You went on and on about how you'd always hunt us down, so Kimball and I figured you weren't worth the trouble.

[Does he...honestly not remember?]

[That never happened. He'd remember if that happened. Sharkface grunts, shifting his weight.]

I'm still here.

I noticed.

[Wry as it is, he can't quite muzzle the confusion that's still fuzzing at the corners of his mind. All the jokes about not expecting him to get up from that one didn't prepare him for the possibility that he actually would.]

Which is why I guess there's no point in killing you again.

[He stares at Washington for a long moment - too long - feeling oddly unnerved. It doesn't feel like a lie. Too obvious. And it begs the question, doesn't it? What now? His mission ends one way. That's been clear since the beginning. Either he dies now or he dies later, and it doesn't matter so much if he gets all of the Freelancers so long as someone bleeds in the attempt. They die or he dies, right on down the line. So long as his brothers and sisters are avenged. Better to die trying than live without them.

And now?

Now he's staring at Washington like an idiot and feeling stupidly thankful that his helmet visor is tinted. He used to telegraph everything, in Basic. In the days before he lived in armor. It was a flaw.

He makes a noise like laughter, or something that was meant to be laughter. It comes out wrong.]

Better get it right this time.

[That's around the point in time that someone's motives go from single-minded to a fault to just - concerning, on multiple levels. Or maybe it would be, if he weren't so goddamned tired already. He wants out, does he? Wash should oblige. Out of some sense of...mercy, or something, maybe.]

...no.

I'm done.

[He's done trying to puzzle all this out. He's done trying to deal with this asshole and figure out where he stands.]

[Sharkface goes rigid, hands tight around his pistol. Bad form. It'll ruin his aim. He can hear CT's voice suddenly, take a breath, kid, there you go, and that makes it worse, somehow. It feels like pity.] You don't get to be done.

[It was always going to end like this. He shoots. Aims for center mass and pulls the trigger.]

[Wash hurls himself to one side with a muffled curse, ducking into a roll -

A fraction too late.

The sting and burn is unmistakable. He's been shot before, and immediately his HUD hums with all the requisite warnings, blaring in neon crimson. He grits his teeth at the copper tang that creeps up in the back of his throat.]

Damn it.

[He's done, he said. And he meant it.

So he returns fire with the chatter of spraying lead.]

[Hit. It landed. It's not enough to put Washington down but it's a start.

Then Washington returns the favor.

Sharkface laughs, loud and hoarse. He doesn't dodge. Takes the shots center mass. His HUD is screaming damage damage damage. And he holds. He doesn't fall.]

Better.

[Jesus christ. How is he still standing? Wash's tone pitches upward in rifting shock and incredulity.]

What is it gonna take for you to die already?

Dunno. [Wanna find out? Sharkface laughs again, feels himself swaying. Pain is a distant thing now. He knows the damage more from the blaring message on his HUD than anything his body might have to say. It's a trick, learning how to ignore that.]

C'mon, Washington! You can do better than that!

I really don't want to!

[He's kind of already sick of this, and the maniacal laughter is not helping. The chatter of gunfire rends the air, but the vibrations of opening fire jars at the ache in his side, his teeth gritted painfully.]

[He laughs again - louder, sharper. It doesn't hurt but it sounds like something's breaking in his throat. Possibly he's dying. Probably not. It doesn't matter until he's down and he won't go down, he will fucking hold.

The pistol clatters to the ground. And he laughs.]

No? No? Try again!

[He's seen worse. He knows he has. He's lived through worse and committed to doing worse. But this - shooting a man while he's down, laughing like he's goddamn possessed.

It stirs a memory, a trail of an old reminder in someone else's head. A fragment cast in purpled black, boiling with rage that swelled like a tumor.

He's angry.

He's angry.]

I told you. I'm done.

[He rips a biofoam pen from his holster, stabbing it into the point of contact, squeezing the thing dry despite the unholy sting.]

[Oh, he's done? No, no, no. He doesn't get to be done. Sharkface laughs and laughs, even as his voice cracks and his knee finally buckles. Down, down, down, but he won't crawl this time, he won't pretend to be something else even for the short time it takes to get in close and kill the fucker.

No guns this time, no point in that, it was always going to end in fire anyway. It's poetic like that and he scrabbles in the dirt for his gauntlets, clawing at them when they don't activate.]

No, no, no!

[The right one sputters, a weak flame. Not enough to matter. It scorches the dirt and then it dies. His HUD is blaring damage reports and instructions again, primary fuel cell exhausted, reload, and it's too much. He can't stop laughing.

How fucking predictable. Briefly, Sharkface thinks he's going to die crazy.

CT would be so disappointed.]

test drive meme #21

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cw for suicidal ideation

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