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

[ Drake only has the one scar and everybody always asks about it; he's wondering what happened to Ephemera, obviously, but he thought it'd be nice to be the guy who doesn't ask. Everyone needs a break from that shit. ]

Uh oh, I thought you were charging for the lap dance, not the spar. You that hard up? [ He pauses. ] What do they use for money here anyway? I got the impression it'd be a barter system.

[Ephemera laughs. It hurts his ribs, but only a little. He'll be fine in a day or so. Back to the fight. Or whatever he's going to find here. It's better than Chorus, he's decided. No civil war, no kill counts, and - best of all - no Felix.] No idea. All I got is the armor and I'm not trading that away anytime soon.

[A soldier without their armor is already dead. You can run out of ammo and allies, but never your armor.]

Figure I'll kill some shit. Earn me some good will. You know how to use a gun?

[Because there's fighting people and then there's fighting.]

[ Drake nods. He wouldn't trade armor or weapons away, either. ]

Yeah, I'm a crack shot, actually. But I don't have one on me here, and the armory doesn't have any. I'm gonna have to learn to use a sword or something.

[He watches Drake for a moment.]

Crack shot, huh?

[Good to know. And he's got a rifle alongside his pistol. He doesn't offer right then, though. Wait and see how things play out. Besides, teaming up with someone out of armor - even if they can fight - is begging for disaster, and Ephemera's not in the mood to watch someone he likes die anytime soon.

He'd totally pay money to watch somebody blow Felix's head off, though.]

Dunno much about swords, but one of my squadmates used an axe.

[Goddamn, he misses CT.]

Could probably figure something out with that.

Totally. I've got some long range pistol awards, actually. And I learned to shoot with either hand.

[ Most of his training was on the force, something he isn't disclosing yet, but he's sure got a ton of certs. ]

An axe? I saw some, yeah. That might be easier, with how they're weighted...

[ He's never had to think about these things before, fighting monsters with bladed weapons. It's all pretty surreal. But hey, he's had to deal with waking up a zombie before -- Drake's pretty good at rolling with the punches. ]

I'm guessing the learning curve is gonna be pretty steep. Any tips?

[Ephemera whistles. It hurts his head a little, but he does it anyway. Feels appropriate.]

Goddamn. Now you're just showing off. You ambidextrous or just stubborn?

[He's quiet for a moment, thinking. Teaching was CT's thing, just like knives were Chica's and Barrows was a goddamn artist with explosives. Ephemera was the middle man, filling in wherever needed. He can do a little of everything. Hopefully that involves teaching, too.]

Focus on the footwork. People start with knives and shit, they think it's all in the hands. They overcommit, get off balance.

[He grins.]

I did. Got my ass handed to me so many times.

Just stubborn. I thought, 'what if someone's got my right pinned?' Learn to use the left. It's like hitting, you can't slack on your weak side, right?

[ Footwork. He's not sure where to start with that for swords or axes, but keeping his balance while swinging a heavy weapon around will definitely be a thing. He'll ask around for someone to train with, and pay close attention to how he holds his weight. ]

Good advice. How much use did your friend really get out of that axe, though? Your armor doesn't scream cqb.

's a good idea. I can do it with my helmet, but that's with the targeting system. No way I'm doing that blind.

[He's got one good eye and shitty depth perception. There's no chance he's shooting with his off-hand and actually hitting anything.

He has to laugh at that.]

You're kidding, right? Oh, wow, okay, you're serious. We do close quarters all the time. Armor's tough, sure, but it's got weak points like anything. And people just don't see an axe coming. Knives, sure. But not a goddamn axe.

[There's a pause. Ephemera sighs, fond and sad all at once.]

CT loved that thing. Would've called it his girlfriend except his actual girlfriend would've kicked my ass.

[ Drake nods; it took him a long time to be able to use his off hand, and he's got two good eyes. But he figures he can brag a little around someone who's so obviously a badass. He picks up a gauntlet while Ephemera talks about weak points and blades -- the joints of the armor would probably be where to hit, he thinks, it's unlikely even an axe could cut through the metal.

He looks up at the change in Ephemera's tone -- It sounds like CT is no more. It sounds like all of Ephemera's unit is dead, which Drake can't imagine. How did it happen? In whatever incident he got his scars, maybe? He's not going to ask, but he wants to. He wants to tell Ephemera he's sorry about his squad, but he doesn't. The other man probably doesn't want the sympathy. ]

What's your weapon of choice? The guns?

Me? I'm the utility--whoa, okay. Don't move.

[He sits up suddenly, ignoring the sharp pain from his ribs, because Drake has one of his gauntlets and is getting dangerously close to the manual activation for the flame thrower. Nobody needs a blast of napalm to the face. This close Drake probably wouldn't even survive it. Definitely not without armor. It doesn't have much fuel left in the canister - barely enough for one good blast without reloading - but it only takes one to fuck up somebody's day.]

You're cool, man. Just...hold still.

[Steady hands, steady voice, they're all good. He takes the gauntlet back carefully. He laughs a little, because what else are they gonna do?]

Okay! That could've been interesting! But we're cool.

[He nods again. Totally fine!]

That's a flame thrower. Just so you know.

[ Obediently, Drake freezes when he's told. He doesn't even breathe, just holds himself motionless while Ephemera takes the gauntlet from him, wondering what the hell was about to happen. Luckily for them both he isn't the random-button-pressing type, but he's half expecting something to explode in his face any second.

Once the other man is holding the gauntlet instead his shoulders ease a little, and he breathes out. They're cool? Okay good. ]

A flamethrower? [ Well, he would have survived it, but it would not have been fun. ] Shit, I guess that answers my question. That works against the armor too?

[Ephemera checks the gauntlet quickly, running his hands over the seams and connection ports. Nothing's leaking, couple dents and such, but so far so good. Crisis averted. He flashes Drake a grin.] If I get close enough, yeah. Fucks up the sensors in the helmets, too. Plus, it's fire. Primal fear shit.

[Aim a blast at somebody and they usually lose their cool, trained soldier or not.]

But that's me. I'm the fill in guy. Do a bit of everything. I can shoot, I can probably kick your ass with a knife, I'm not totally useless as a medic, and I can fly a pelican. Little bit of everything.

[ A nod; that makes sense. He'd definitely freak out if he was suddenly surrounded by fire, and he's spent years working on being chill under pressure. Fire was indeed scary in a primal way, not a learned one like having a gun pointed at you. (Something that had gotten way less scary since he'd become a zombie, as well.) ]

Is your first name Jack? [ His tone is teasing, but he's also genuinely impressed. ]

It's Terrence, actually.

[Not that anyone's called him that for years. He grins, waving his gauntlet at Drake.]

'sup.

You prefer using your last name, though?

[ Since that's how he introduced himself. Could just be a military thing... doesn't matter to Drake what he wants to be called. He was used to being called Holloway at work, himself, before he went undercover. ]

Right now, you. Lie back down, you're supposed to be resting.

[Oh. That. He hesitates a moment before lying down, trying to think of something to say. Count the lines on the ceiling until the pain goes away.]

Names are complicated.

[Understatement of the century. But this isn't the same as lying. This is just shifting away from the things that can't be answered easily.]

Ephemera's good for now.

[ ...interesting. Complicated how? But again, he doesn't ask, sensing that there's something deep and painful involved in the answer. ]

It's kind of a mouthful, but I can roll with it.

Hey, are you hungry? I can go scrounge something up.

[Good, okay, no more questions that have long and winding answers.

He rolls his eyes.]

God, I know. Foster parents had a sense of humor. Ephemera, ephemeral. Hilarious.

[Wait. He brightens.]

Holy shit, you have actual food?

[ Foster parents, huh? Another piece of the puzzle. He huffs in agreement at the sarcasm -- it's not a great joke. But if Ephemera has claimed the name, then that's all that matters.

As for food... ]

What do you consider "actual" food? It's not gourmet but I found a store earlier that had pantry type stuff. Let me grab it.

[ Drake stands up, vanishing back into the other room -- when he'd thought this was an empty apartment he'd dropped his bag in the kitchen. He comes back with it, sifting through the contents. It's all canned and boxed stuff, not as good as fresh but probably a sight better than MREs and prison food. Stew and crackers, cereal, peanut butter, rice and beans and vegetables. ]

Anything jumping at you?

[Oh god he has actual real food. Peanut butter and rice, stew that probably won't taste like it's made out of rubber and spite. Ephemera's grin threatens to split his face.] I will literally kiss you for that soup. I haven't had real food in forever.

[ That grin is contagious; Drake laughs softly at the other man's enthusiasm, pulling the can out of the bag. ]

I won't tell my girlfriend.

Lemme see if I can heat it up at least. [ And see if the kitchen has anything like bowls and spoons -- it's a long shot but worth a look. He leaves the bedroom again and there's the sound of rummaging, cabinets opening and closing, then Drake's voice calling out from the kitchen. ] Rice or crackers, man? I found a pot.

[Ephemera just laughs, resting his head on his arm.]

Buddy, she is free to join.

[It's been forever since he's laughed like this, been able to joke with anyone besides Felix - who does not fucking count because he's a tiny psychopathic asshole - and it feels good. Weirdly relaxing, like falling back into a pattern he'd missed but never quite forgotten. He likes Drake. The man's easy to talk to and he's not bad to look at, either. (Ephemera's only half blind, okay).

All things considered, this moment's going pretty well.]

Crackers! I'd help, but I'm a shit cook. One thing I'm not good at.

Yeah? You'd like her.

[ He rinses the pot out and pours two cans of stew in, setting it to heat and continuing to rummage around for a bowls and spoons. They're dusty when he finds them so he rinses those too, hoping the water's safe and wondering what the hell happened to the people who lived here. In the city in general. Drake's got a ton of questions, really -- they'll have to find someone else soon, someone with answers. But for now, food. He calls back out as the soup heats up. ]

My ma insisted I learn before I moved out. I'm glad I listened.

[ This isn't really cooking, though, it's opening and pouring and stirring. It's not long before he's coming back in with food, two steaming bowls and the box of crackers tucked under his arm. He waits for Ephemera to push himself up to sitting again before passing one over. ]

...I should probably go after this, it's getting dark. [ He has to find another place for the night. ]

's a good thing to know.

[His own culinary talents are limited to unwrapping ration bars or, more importantly, handing off the actual food and prep work to Rodriguez, who might have been a little fucked in the head when it came to shooting birds but could work legitimate magic with some pepper and a little time over even the shittiest of fires.

Goddamn, he misses that crazy fucker.

But there's food in front of him and time for memories later. Ephemera inhales the steam. It feels good on his face, warm against the rising bruises. He'll be a mess in the morning, as per usual. But there's food - real, hot food in front of him - and Ephemera really can't find it in himself to care.]

There's a couch.

[He's busy devouring the food, barely pausing to breathe. Because food.]

You made me dinner. I'm not that much of a bastard.

She's really something else.

[ His voice is wistful, longing. He misses Liv. Knows he'll probably never see her again, if he winds up back where he came from. And she never knew the truth... with a little sigh Drake sits back down and digs into his own meal -- he can hardly taste it and it doesn't satisfy the cravings, but it's warm and something in his stomach. They hadn't fed them in the lab.

He's going to need to figure out where to get brains real soon. ]

...thanks. I'll take it.

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