Test Drive Meme #22

[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 July 25th, and apps are open August 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: THE WRONG KIND OF SCARY
[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.

There's an odd shuffling to your right and to your left. Do you know what that is? Maybe not, but at least nobody else does either. You might peek at an eye stalk or a stinger, you might catch a glimpse of something that can maybe pass for fingers... or maybe it just has a mouth on its butt because its creator was feeling particularly sadistic that day. That's right, you're looking at the creatures from Spore, EA's infamous alien creation game with the most awkward alien creator imaginable.

These particular Spore creatures are the carnivorous kind, the kind who seek out and eat other creatures so that they can instantly procreate to pass on their victim's genetic code and make their species even more wild. You might not want to stick around and watch the mating process. I promise it's just as weird as you think.]

T R A N Q U I L I T Y / C O N F U S I O N

SCENARIO TWO: STEPFORD SUNDAY
[You wake up one lovely weekend morning to the sounds of birds chirping outside and sun streaming through your window. What a wonderful day to be perfectly normal and happy in the suburbs! Your family is all around you, like a Norman Rockwell painting, happy to go about their average day in their average life in their average city.

So what if your sister is an archdemon? Or your father is somehow a dragon? It's just the way that things have always been... isn't it?

The perceptive of you may begin to see cracks in the veneer, may begin to wonder why everything seems to be so perfect... and as the truth begins to unfold, it paints a much darker picture than the one you're seeing. Are you sure you don't want to stay, just a little while longer?

This is a mini version of our Stepford Summer event this month!]

R A G E / D E L I G H T

SCENARIO THREE: CAKE WARS
[There are plenty of ways in this world to rouse your competitive spirit. Many of them involve athletics- few involve such beautiful edible artistry as this.

That's right, you're in a cake baking competition, and no matter how competitive you normally are, thanks to Rage's influence, you want to win. Competitors can be in teams of two or alone, and they have until morning to bake their cakes to the fullest and bring it to Delight's temple for judging.

So what kind of cake baker are you? Do you revel in your artistry? Do you measure everything and carefully prepare each icing tip? Or do you know that you suck at cooking and decide to use the opportunity to sabotage your opponent's cake instead? Nothing is off limits, and all's fair in cake and war, after all!]

Comments

[hot_mes]

Don't tell me what to do. [it's almost out of reflex. At the same time, Law turns and heads the opposite way] Fine. I'll do what I can to mess up the ingredients.

[ghostlocked]

Just a suggestion, man. Relax.

[Don't worry, Harlan understands that impulse. But still, shut up and listen to him. He gives Law a thumbs up and heads off to his side of the competition. The lap doesn't take him long--all he has to do is sneakily crank up a few knobs here and there, and boom, sabotage complete. He heads back to their station with a fresh bag of chocolate chips once he's done.]

[hot_mes]

[NO YOU. Law grumps under his breath as he do but still makes the rounds, relying entirely on his ability to yank away bowls and swap ingredients wherever he goes. He's subtle about it, putting on the appearance of just scoping everybody else out and comparing their skills to his, and the first team to cry loudly about their batter tasting wrong brings a cool smirk to his lips.

When he gets back, he just gives his unexpected partner a raised eyebrow.]

Really? You haven't had enough of those yet?

[ghostlocked]

[wtf get off his dick????]

There's no such thing as enough chocolate. [And he's not sharing this time. That's what Law gets for being a smartass.] How'd the sabotage go?

[hot_mes]

[that's okay he doesn't want any, so nyeah]

Fine. I changed some ingredients around and stole others. It's still possible one or two might recover or make the best of it, but at least we have far fewer rivals now.

[which reminds him, there's still a canister of baking powder and a vial of vanilla extract in his pocket. Those don't need to live there, but he'll make a point of hiding them under the counter anyway.]

Some of the others are working on decorations. Do we need those too?

[ghostlocked]

Nice. And the rest of the competition should have burnt cakes. We got this in the bag.

[Good question, though. Harlan glances around the room at the few other groups doing some shit with piping bags.]

Hm. Guess we should. We could fuck it up on purpose if we're still going with the cake trading plan.

[hot_mes]

It takes more effort to fuck it up on purpose. [really, he knows nothing of icing and flowers and fondant, left to Law he'll fuck it up no matter what] It should at least look like a cake before we swap it out.

...no flowers, though. Flowers are boring.

[ghostlocked]

[Harlan squints at Law. That sounds like the opposite of true, but he's getting a little bored. May as well spice it up with some attempted decorating.]

Alright, sure. Let's do, uh... [What goes on a cake besides flowers?] Shit, I don't know. We can draw animals or something. Do we have to make our own icing?

[hot_mes]

Hearts. [what? WHAT? He has a thing, okay.] I...don't know, honestly.

[step one, check everywhere for something that might be icing first. Cabinets, fridge, oven. Oh, the cake smells actually edible, not bad. No icing in there though. He got a recipe for cake, nobody said anything about a recipe for decorating it!]

[ghostlocked]

[Harlan laughs.] Hearts. Sure.

[This icing situation is a problem, though. Harlan doesn't have the slightest clue for how to make icing.]

Hm. It's probably just like, eggs and sugar or something, and then we mix it up. It doesn't have to taste good as long as it looks passable.

[hot_mes]

Eggs? [as he straightens up from the fridge with a carton of cream, like that's going to help. Dubious. Eggs doesn't sound right but Law has so little baking experience that he's willing to go with it.]

...you're right, as long as it looks like icing then the taste doesn't matter. Give it a shot. [while he fishes out clean bowls - look, he's helping!]

[ghostlocked]

Unless you got a better idea.

[Once again, Harlan doesn't appreciate being told what to do!!! ...But messing around with a mixer does seem pretty fun. He plugs it in and then starts dumping stuff into the bowl.

Half a bag of sugar and, like, twenty eggs should probably do it. Cracking eggs is fun, too.]

Oh, I bet we need butter. That's a thing, right? Buttercream?

[hot_mes]

[Law looks toward him with the slow dawning realization that that actually makes sense. Some part of him has to wonder if he's losing his mind or Harlan is actually good at this.]

Buttercream... [well, he's still got the cream, so...here. In case that's part of it. Back into the fridge for the butter, which is quite cold and hard so good luck with that in the mixer, Harlan]

[ghostlocked]

[IN GOES THE CREAM. That sounds like the next logical step. Good call, Law. The butter is going to pose some problems, though. Harlan unwraps it and dumps it into a smaller bowl.]

Nuke this. I'll get started with the other stuff.

[And he will, once he can figure out this mix--OH THERE IT GOES and now he's covered in a smattering of maybe-icing ingredients. Awesome.

Take two, but on a lower setting...]

[hot_mes]

[Do what with it now? The problem with that direction, they don't exactly have microwaves on pirate ships. Law just stares at Harlan's back, having no idea what that means. But he's not going to admit it and look like an idiot.]

Well. That's...

[It takes him a minute, but he can infer from the explosion of ingredients that maybe the butter should be softer before it goes in. Hmm. Well, the oven is already hot, maybe if he sticks it in there for a few seconds...]

[ghostlocked]

[Harlan is busy doing icing stuff and doesn't realize that Law is befuddled over the "nuke it" thing. When he has everything all mixed, he glances over at the microwave, which doesn't have butter in it, and then at Law, who isn't holding any butter... What the hell?]

Dude, what are you doing?

[hot_mes]

Melting the butter. [duh?

although he did not consider that he put a conductive metal bowl in a hot oven so. It's very melted and he reaches in to quickly grab it before it burns. Wait, better grab a towel first, he very nearly burned his precious surgeon's hands like an idiot.]

Well. That. Sort of worked.

[ghostlocked]

[Harlan shrugs.] Microwave would've been better, but who gives a shit. Give it here.

[He makes a gimme motion with one hand as he fires up the mixer again. Molten butter is probably a fine thing to add to this.]

[hot_mes]

I have no idea what the hell you mean. [oh, you want the piping hot metal bowl, Harlan? Sure, why not.] Careful. I don't want to be doing any first aid, here.

[he does, at least, offer it from the side where he's holding it gingerly with a towel. Handing off the towel along with the bowl shouldn't be hard.]

[ghostlocked]

[Harlan gives him a look. Dude what??] A microwave? [He points at the offending appliance on the counter.] What, are you from the pioneer days or something?

[Whatever. He's got bigger fish to fry. Or cakes to bake. Same thing.

And passing it off shouldn't be hard, but that would put their hands a little too close for comfort. He picks up his own towel and grabs at the opposite side of the bowl, and then he'll pour it into the mixer... Gently, at least.]

[hot_mes]

Is it really that hard to think...? Never mind. [they have work to do, no time to discuss the revolution of the microwave.

Conveniently, the timer goes off just then, so he busies himself getting the cake pan out and setting it somewhere to cool. At least they have a cake, regardless of how it might taste. Half the competitors can't even say that. The other half have no idea what's been secretly dumped into their batter before baking.]

Good. This is our best chance. We can do this. [competitive spirit unnaturally flaring again...]