dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #22

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!test drive

Test Drive Meme #22

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!]

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[For a moment, she just gapes at him. Somehow, they've both been brought to god knows where, a place with monsters, and he can't tell her if he's seeing double or how they can both be here or anything. "Hey, honey." That's it. The big jerk.

She can't help but give him a crooked smile back.]

Hey, cowboy.

[She breathes out a little laugh and reaches out to touch his face with her other hand because she's suddenly so relieved that he's here. That she isn't in this utterly unfamiliar place alone.]

[It feels like someone's shoved their hand through his rib cage and squeezed his lungs. Like a sickeningly tight wire inside him has snapped and everything just wants to sag into the arm around him, like that first deep drink of water after a day in the desert.

Nate huffs a laugh in return and tries not to look so obvious about how much he really needs that hand on his cheek.]

'Bout time you showed up.

[Shifting in place, he begins the process of getting to his feet and wishing Hadriel had health insurance. Already he can hear more of those things screeching, not too far away. A man tries to have A Moment with his wife and this is what he gets.]

I'll, uh. Give you the nickel tour once we get out of here.

[It's not just seeing him here when she'd thought she was alone. Elena's missed him enough these past couple of weeks that Nate showing up out of the blue would be a wonderful thing under any circumstances, especially when he's looking at her like that.

But it's not the time. The not-so-distant screeching doesn't freak her out, but it does mean it's time to get up and go. Somewhere. Good thing the twisted ankle was just a painful tweak and not a serious sprain.]

Wait, what?

[She gives him a look once they're on their feet. He's talking like he knows this place, but that can't be right.]

How can you give me a tour? Did you look at a map and instantly memorize it or something?

[She doesn't know how long he's been here.

Someone else explained the mechanics to him a little while ago, how time passes differently, how when he returns to his world he'll arrive at the exact moment he left. For him, it's been months. How is he supposed to catch her up?]

Uhhhhh that's a little more complicated.

[In fairness, memorizing the map was exactly what he did when he showed up, even if he's now the one updating the damn thing.]

How're your feet? Want me to carry you?

[She opens her mouth to tell him that it can't be that complicated, and maybe it isn't—but another monster screech, a little closer this time, reminds her that it definitely is about to be bitey if they don't move.]

Not really.

[She'd much rather be on her own two feet, not dependent on someone else to get around, no matter how much she trusts Nate to have her back. But this already isn't the safest place for pedestrians, and he seems familiar with it somehow.]

Unless the way out takes us through gravel or broken glass or something. Then yes, definitely.

[The ground outside the Coliseum isn't exactly post-apocalyptic, but neither is it really that clean. Arbitrary debris is kind of the decor of choice around these parts. They've got enough time for her own decision-making before anything else comes clawing its way around a corner.

Nate extend his arms.]

Piggyback, or fancy-style?

[He may be prolonging the inevitable explanations a bit just to get his thoughts together.]

[She's really going to need some shoes ASAP if being carried is the best option. One more reason to be glad he's here, though it doesn't even make the top ten.]

Tough decision. If you gave me a piggyback ride, I could still be the navigator and use your ears to steer.

[It'd be a better vantage point, too. But Elena steps into his arms instead. It's not just the appeal of a fancy lift; she just really wants to hug him before they go anywhere.]

Ha ha, cute.

[He's .2 seconds away from turning around and bending at the knees so Elena can mount her noble steed when she steps into his orbit instead and he feels his arms close around her before he can think about it. She's small - how could he forget she only really comes up to his shoulder? - and warm, smells like the heat of Louisiana humidity, and Nate squeezes her tightly in the vain hope that she won't feel him shaking.

He hadn't lost her, but it felt pretty damn close.]

I missed you.

[Nate manages to say it without falling apart, even knowing she won't understand it until he puts things in context.]

You can't have missed me that much. You just got off the phone with me an hour ago.

[And he'd lied to her during that call. And she'd known it. Elena pushes that thought away, refuses to let it gain traction because they've got much bigger concerns right now.

Besides, it's not true anyway. Even if they'd just talked, he hadn't been with her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck and is faintly surprised that he's trembling.]

I missed you too.

[Frantically, he tries to think back to the Post-It notes trapped in the pages of his sketchbook. Card numbers, minutes used. International travel is always easier with a burner phone but he's fond of his own and can't remember when he last called her. Italy? Well after midnight, so it was around dinner time in the States. Service is lousy, he'd lied.

Nate squeezes her a little tighter.]

C'mon.

[He loosens his grasp and stoops then, enough to scoop her up, and it doesn't escape him that she's the second person he's carried away from this shitshow in as many months. The act would probably be a lot more romantic if he wasn't desperately trying to keep it together.]

Let's get outta here.

All right, all right.

[She doesn't know where they're going, but it has to be better thana n coliseum with a bunch of monsters. Elena lets him scoop her up, draping one arm loosely around his neck, and hides a smile despite herself. It's like she's a bride being carried over a threshold, not that he ever did that when they really were newlyweds.

With the job of choosing their path left to Nate, she's free to scan the landscape, but a few seconds later her gaze lands back on his face.]

You didn't answer my question.

I know.

[The benefit to a piggyback ride versus this is that she wouldn't be able to see the way his jaw tightens before he replies. From this vantage, all she can do is look at his face. Analyze his discomfort. Ask the prying and pointed questions that he loves her for even when they're at his expense.

He isn't in any particular hurry, but neither does he want to loiter out here in the open for what is already shaping up to be a weird conversation.]

I'm not sure how to best explain this, so I'm just...gonna come out and say it. I've been here for months. Going on four, now.

[Elena has no way of knowing how uncomfortable Nate might be with the up-close analysis. If she had even an idea of what equally uncomfortable answer he has in store, she could make a guess, but clearly she's missing all kinds of context.

Doesn't matter. She feels a little useless, not even able to walk out of her on her own two (bare) feet. Gently probing at staring at his face are the only things she can do—and she does stare. Gapes, more like.]

What? That's not true. You left for the Malaysia job two weeks ago. Not even that.

Yeah, wish I could say that was accurate.

[In more ways than one.

Nate looks down to flash her an apologetic smile and, in the process, nearly trips over a rock. Squeezing Elena a little tighter and setting his attention on the road - or at the very least, keeping an eye out for a store they might find some shoes in - he continues.]

Time is...weird, here. Like H. P. Lovecraft levels of weird. [Eldritch monsters and everything.] The time that I'm from might not even be the time that you're from - the last thing I remember was being on a plane, and then.

[Nate shrugs.]

Being here.

[He can't disclose the fact that it wasn't a commercial airline, but Sully's Grumman Goose. He can't tell her about Scotland. He can't tell her about Sam. Not yet.]

Someone told me that time sort of stops when you're brought in, and then when you leave you get dropped back at the exact point you left off.

[Elena grips him tighter right back, instinctively fearful of being dropped even though she trusts Nate to never let her go, and it distracts her from arguing back that that can't be true, that time is a constant unless you're traveling in space at lightspeed and does this look like Star Trek to him?

She's here, when she was last at home in New Orleans. He's here, when he was last...well, who knows. And there's a dead monster a ways behind them. A lot of things about this situation should be impossible, and yet.]

About an hour ago, we talked about all the flooding that happened in Malaysia, and how you'd be out there another ten days or so. You told me not to get a plane ticket out there since everyone would be so busy once you made it back out on the water again. [And she'd wanted to, not because of her growing suspicions but because she missed him, plain and simple.] You don't remember that?

Really?

[About an hour ago. Nate gives her a funny look because yeah, even he wasn't present for that phone call, and it raises a lot of questions.

Two weeks in, according to Elena, and he was calling to stall for time. Ten more days. Was it after arriving in Madagascar? After they landed in King's Bay? Hell, "two weeks" is only a few days away from him in his own timeline. It begs the question as to whether they ended up finding something and he needed a fresh excuse, flooding in Malaysia, Jesus, that's right, it's monsoon season.

It doesn't escape him that he was lying to keep her from flying out to meet him in a country where he wasn't even stationed for work.

Fuck.]

No, I haven't had that call with you. Weather was fine last time I checked in.

[The surprise and puzzlement are genuine, she can tell. He hasn't experienced that call, which means she's from very slightly in his future. If what he says about the way time works here is true—and she has no reason to doubt him on this—Nate is stuck in the past. Literally.

That brings up all sorts of questions. What was he lying about during that call, and does the Nate who's holding her now even know about it? The only way for sure would be to press him on the issue, but that could make him a currently-innocent guy being accused of something he hasn't done. If he is already lying to her, there's no way to resolve or affect what was happening back then when they're here, a world away, and that sounds like a special kind of torture.

Knowing full well that it's probably a bad idea, Elena carefully and consciously takes her suspicions, puts them in a box and shoves them in the back of her mental closet. She'll deal with them later.]

Okay. [Despite being more wired than tired, she rests her head against him.] I'm glad you're here. I'm sorry you've been alone for months.

[It isn't entirely a lie, but it's enough of one that he won't press for more details. Whatever this future version of him said, maybe he had a reason. Shoreline might have closed in on them, or someone made a threat, or he's just an asshole and a coward and doesn't want to know for his own safety. For hers.

Nate is relieved when Elena's temple pushes against his shoulder and she changes the subject.]

Me too.

[Injecting a little levity into his tone is hard, but he makes it work. Sort of.]

Monsters, Elena. Every month. In a cave city! I had to go to a social function here by myself.

Oh, good lord.

[She laughs, and it comes easier to her now that she's committed to pulling a Nate and pushing the uneasy emotions away where they can't bother her. She lifts her head to look him in the face again, amusement clear in her expression.]

I know which part was worse for you. Monster you can deal with, you've faced them before, but being social...

[She shakes her head, trying to look vaguely sympathetic but almost completely failing.]

I've seen you try to do small talk. No wonder you were happy to see me.

It was pretty bad.

[Loitering aimlessly in a suit, which hasn't seen action since the social function in question. It sits at the back of his closet, depressingly rumpled, waiting for a time that will never come. Nate excels in conversation that is interesting to him, but making pleasantries always feels forced.]

I'm not, uh, completely hopeless, though. I know some people.

[Nate pauses next to one of the many blown-out stores, a former purveyor of clothing, and turns to duck under its cracked lintel to locate some shoes sooner rather than later. Not that this isn't nice, but he knows Elena wouldn't want to play invalid forever. Gently, he eases her down on a slab of concrete.]

Lemme find you some sneakers, hon.

[She stifles a laugh. Nate's put in time at the occasional fancy work function she's attended for networking/schmoozing, playing the part of the dutiful plus one, but while he can be good with people, he's not good at that.]

Some people, huh? I wanna meet these people.

[It's not surprising that he's made friends. Nate just has a certain charisma that draws people to him, with or without small talk. He'd probably be pretty good on camera, not that that's likely to ever happen.

She lets out a relieved sigh as he sets her down, stretched her feet and then her calves before standing.]

Thanks. Maybe some socks, too.

[He knows he makes great arm candy at her work events, but his skills thereof very rarely extends beyond conversation that starts to grate after about five minutes. A half-hour in and he just sort of hovers near the hors d'oeuvres table desperately wanting to loosen his tie and counting the minutes until he can do exactly that.]

Okay, but you gotta promise not to tell them embarrassing stories.

[he says, knowing perfectly well that she will, and any reputation he's built up as a reasonably respectable citizen working on a map of the city will be dashed.

Nate glances down at her feet, then at a pile of nearby shoes, and feels something lurch uncomfortably in his chest. Loathe to put her down and leave her for five fucking seconds in case he's hallucinating again.]

Yeah, I'll find some socks. [Nate informs her softly, doing the exact opposite of that and slipping a hand over her hip when he moves back into her orbit.] C'mere.

[Elena smirks, making no such promise or even a token attempt to convince him that she'll be discreet. They both know better.]

You better.

[It's a murmured command, an aside that neither of them pay much attention to. She knows his body language and she's right there with him, stepping closer so she can feel the warmth of his body close to hers and bring a hand up to his neck, urging him to duck his head to the necessary level.

Four months for him, two weeks for her. It's not even, but she's pretty sure she needs to kiss her husband just as much as he needs to kiss her.]

[It's an excruciating relief to just be touched and it shows in the way his chin dips deferentially, the way he leans into her hand while his own braces against the small of her back. Normally Elena might crane up on tiptoe to reach him but this is as good a reminder as any that more often than not, he needs to be brought back down to her level.

Nate ducks his head to kiss her, trying to be careful with a need so strong he barely recognizes it, sighing against her mouth when the tension finally leaves him. She smells like their house, every familiar scent punching him in the chest this close and wringing out a nostalgia he didn't think he was capable of feeling for their renovated shotgun.

It was only ever 'home' because she was there.]

[It's not full-on making out because this is not the right place for that (though it sort of feels like it should be right time, reunion and all), but Elena ends up with both her arms wrapped loosely around his neck, kissing him back a little longer and a little harder than she'd expected.

Once she'd felt that something was off about his trip, her anxiety had only grown despite her best efforts to tamp it down. It's a relief to find him just as she remembers, here and wanting her, that same familiar look in his eyes right before hers flutter closed.

God, she's missed him.]

Hmm. Four months, huh? I can tell, you're getting a little rusty there.

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