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

kravitz | the adventure zone

[knockthemdead]

stepford summer

[It's the same as every other morning.

Kravitz wakes early enough to watch the sun crawl up and begin peeking through the blinds. It's warm. The sky is clear, and his coffee tastes good. Not great. But good.

He doesn't eat lunch at work. That used to be a part of the routine, but it's been... taught out of him. Good food deserves a good view, apparently. The day goes quickly, and he packs up early, because why not? You can do that when you're your own boss, and there's a needy carrot patch at home with his name on it.

Things are the way they have always been. Right?]

cake wars

[He's composed. Cool. Totally put together. Definitely not desperate to win, irregardless of what it takes.

Okay. So maybe he's a little on edge. The irritation isn't an unfamiliar feeling, but the competitive itch under Kravitz's skin definitely is. It's childish, and slightly embarrassing, and he can't! Make it go away! So for want of a better option, he strides through the people gathered around, trying to spot someone who knows what they're doing.

You know. Because he doesn't, but he still has to win. Don't mind him staring at you pointedly, perhaps with a hint of judgement.]

[[ooc; for stepford summer: krav runs a funeral home! he can also be easily found tending his garden, or at the library. i love this entire concept please throw whatever assumed cr at me and i'll be down]]

KICKS THE FUCKING DOOR DOWN, GIMME THE STEPFORD GAYS

[pocketspa]

[See, here's the thing. If someone had told Taako "you're gonna find this amazing guy and actually want him to care about you" a few years ago, he'd have probably laughed straight in their face. Truthfully, knowing Taako's typical disposition, it wouldn't be much of a "probably" and more of an "absolutely", because he's not the type that deals in that sort of saccharine bullshit south of a cake order. Emotions are for people who can handle them, and also idiots, because idiots don't know what they're getting themselves into.

Then, of course, there was Kravitz. And Taako has joked in the past about being an idiot, but now he's convinced himself entirely that he's indeed a triple-decker moron bus for how hard he fell for this goddamn man. But he's a little past the point of denial now, if the ring on his finger is any indication.

He's more prone to sleeping in when Kravitz leaves early, seeing as late nights at the restaurant are much more commonplace when they don't even always run a lunch service. But that leaves him time to make his own personal lunch dropoff for a certain someone.

He swings into Kravitz' office as soon as he's sure there's not anyone like, sobbing in the next room. This wouldn't be the first time he accidentally busted a door down to do something romantic and was met with a widower. But Kravitz has asked him to mitigate that, at least a little. As it stands, he's got a few hours to burn, and he leans against the office doorway in one of his favorite flirty sundresses, hair pulled back but otherwise loose.]

Hey. You're doing that thing again. That thing when you're here and not paying attention to me.

HERE THEY ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[knockthemdead]

[At this stage, Kravitz knows far better than to even attempt to continue working. Taako is here, so it's Taako time now. Not that he has any qualms with that- far from it, if the way he immediately sets aside his work and pushes his chair back is any indication. There is a perfect amount of space on his lap for someone Taako-sized, now. What a coincidence.

He looks his husband over (in a manner so far removed from subtle that the admiration in his eyes could probably be viewed from space) and wonders if that swooping sensation in his stomach is ever going to stop being a thing when Taako enters a room.

Probably not. This is also fine.]

Please. Presently, you have every ounce of my attention. And you always have at least a fraction of it. It's something of a problem.

YEEEEEEEAH!!!!!!

[pocketspa]

[Damn right it's Taako Time now. Kravitz makes room for him and it swells something in Taako's heart that he never has to take the space he wants when Kravitz is around; he gives it, willingly, to make space for him in his life. Those little gestures that mean you're wanted that he'll never be able to articulate how much it means to him. Because you know, even when he's married don't make him explain emotional intimacy that sounds fake.

He sways across the room, setting down a brown paper bag with handles onto Kravitz's desk as he settles into his lap, locking one arm around his neck for, uh, balance or whatever stupid reason he could justify but won't. Again, Kravitz doesn't push. He welcomes.]

Oh yeah what a shame. Lookin' at dead people all day and trying to concentrate, but your mind is just always, oh man, you know what would improve this? Taako. And, you know, you're not wrong probably like every time. Guess the universe'll just have to deal with it, my guy.

[He leans forward, placing a kiss on Kravitz' forehead because he can't keep his hands off and this seems like a good outlet for that right now.]

Brought you somethin'.

[knockthemdead]

[Kravitz loops one arm around his waist in return, because look, you can never be too safe, when it comes to balance and all. Taako understands, he's sure. His free hand comes up to cover his mouth and stifle ugly laughter, because as usual, Taako is saying something he knows he shouldn't be laughing at but really, really wants to.]

I do not look at dead people all day.

[The kiss melts him down, makes him sink further into the chair and want to brush his fingers against Taako's cheek- so he does.

The window of opportunity Taako has given him here is too good, and Kravitz holds his gaze suggestively, one eyebrow raised.]

I see that. [A pause. Comedic timing is everything.] Ah, you mean in the bag. Of course.

[pocketspa]

[He smacks at Kravitz' chest, albeit lightly, and purses his lips in a fake pout. His hand is still splayed across his front as he lets his own moment of comedy pass before he breaks it.]

No, I mean me. I'm always a gift, Krav, don't forget it. Today I just come with a cherry on top.

[He reaches behind him, one arm staying around Kravitz' neck to retrieve a box from inside the bag he's placed, setting it on the desk and popping the tab open quickly with deft fingers. Yes, he made a bento box. Yes, it's the gayest thing I could possibly think of. There's hot dogs cut into little octopuses and everything.]

Look at this. Fuckin' artistry, my dude.

[knockthemdead]

[As Taako smacks his chest, Kravitz catches his fingers, just briefly, only long enough to give them a squeeze. He's pursed his lips, and all Kravitz can think is, thank goodness I'm allowed to have this with you.]

I wouldn't dream of taking you for granted for a second. Or your food, for that matter.

[It's all terribly saccharine, but he can't find it in himself to mind even a little. He knows, with certainty hard earned, that Taako appreciates it. Feels the same, even.

But go ǵ̶̶̛́ơ̢͝ ̵̡̕͘͞d͘ ͏̶̨̡ ̶͜s̢͘͜͠ ҉̵̢,̶̵̕,̸̢ ̶̧͟͜s̢̧̛͞h̶̕ę̶͘͜ ̨́͢҉í̧̕s͠҉ ̢̨̢̛n̨̧'̛́͡t̨͘҉͏ ̶̶̡͜͞l͞͏͢a̸͘͡y͘ ̨́͞҉̡t̸̛h̶̸̸͘ę͡͠ ̵̢̀̕͠f̛é̴a̸̕t̴h̡̛͡ ̶̴̧̀҉e͢͢r̴̡͢͝s̴̴ ̛̀́,̡̀͟͏ ̀͘à͝ ̷͜͢c̷̢̛͢͡i̸̡̕͘r͜͏c҉̴̛͜ļ́͘͡e̛͢ d, even having just thought that, Kravitz's heart still ties itself in knots of surprise and delight when he sees the effort Taako has put in. He presses in close, smiling as he kisses the corner of Taako's mouth.

He doesn't move away to speak, instead resting his forehead against the other's.]

Thank you.

...Octopus hotdogs, hm?

[pocketspa]

Uh, yeah. You cut 'em before you cook em and then the little tentacles curl up.

[He even drew a little ketchup face on it. Look, it's smiling. Appreciate this effort so Taako doesn't have to say it, goodness.

He shifts just enough so he can pick one up, careful not to smudge the face, and brings it up to Kravitz' lips, their faces probably still too close to eat properly, but no harm no foul. Like, yeah, he made lunch, but the real point was getting up close and personal before he had to attend to his own responsibilities.]

C'mon, open up babe. I know it's totally awful to have to destroy such art, but you got me here to stare at, so it all works out.

stepford summer

[armcollector]

[Magnus woke up this morning, went to the mall, worked a full eight hours wagging his finger at shoplifters, then stole a Segway from his workplace and rode it the whole way home. It seems like the most normal day he's ever had, just like all of the other normal days he's had, but something has been... off, the whole time. Something just slightly wrong. Randomly, he'll get a flash of a memory of some kind of strange event in his life that, when taking a step back, he's sure never happened at all.

But right now, something's hit him with a sense of urgency unlike any he's ever felt before. He remembers something. He remembers something horrible. It can't have happened, wouldn't have ever happened, but it feels so completely real.

He thinks his wife is dead. He doesn't remember ever getting married. He can't remember what she looked like or what her name was. But he feels, deep in his core, that his wife is out there somewhere, and also that she happens to be dead.

He comes to the funeral home looking for answers. It's a smallish town, and he only really knows of the one funeral home, so if anyone knows anything about it, it's got to be them. He drops off his stolen Segway at home and drives his beat up pickup truck down there and waltzes right in. Thank god there doesn't seem to be anyone holding a service at this very moment and business seems to be slow at this hour. Magnus marches up to Kravitz's desk and slams an open palm down onto it, a demanding gesture if there ever was one. But when it comes to putting words to his demands, he finds himself halting and stuttering for a few moments.]

I, uh, hmm. How to put this. I... I need you to verify if someone who may or may not have had the last name Burnsides has died at some point in the last, uh... let's say five to ten years.

[Fuck, what if she did the thing where you double up on surnames?? He doesn't have a maiden name to work with, here. Or even a first name. Just a gender, which he might not even be 100% sure about.]

Oh, and if that person exists and also died, she was probably a lady. Don't quote me on that, though. Just, I dunno, check every woman that has died in the past here. You've got, like, databases, right? Like a record of services held? Files? Computer files?

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOI

[knockthemdead]

[Well. This, certainly, is not the same as always. Magnus makes an imposing figure, stuttering or no, but Kravitz is not one to bow easily to pressure or intimidation. He stands slowly, fingers spread over the desk in front of him, and does his best to put himself in charge of the situation.]

Hang on. Let's- Let's take a step back for a moment, here. Generally, people call ahead if they want a moment of my time. Or at the very least, they knock and introduce themselves.

[He sighs, sounding incredibly put upon.]

You want me to search for someone without a year they may have died in, let alone any certainty about their name or mere existence?

(flaming elmo but its magnus emote)

[armcollector]

[Magnus rolls his eyes.]

I mean, if you say it like that you make it sound like I'm being unreasonable. I don't know what a phone is. Listen. This is very important. I can't get this fucking... nonexistent lady out of my mind! If she's even a lady!! And now she's dead!

[He throws his hands up into the air, like, fuck, what is he supposed to do? Be helpful?? He can't even help himself!]

That kid Ango noticed it too, something's going on, like, I think I forgot something really fucking important. So just. Find out what I need to know! Okay???

[Magnus just looks at Kravitz, absolute helplessness on his face. He doesn't know what else to do, but he's got to do something about this. He's on the verge of remembering someone important, and if anyone can help him, it's this guy.]

[knockthemdead]

[That kid Ango?? A nonexistent lady?? And Magnus, eyes wide, looking so, completely helpless. Agh. Kravitz is just- he's so- he throws his hands up in frustration, an unintentional mirror of Magnus. Look at these shouty men.]

Okay! Alright, fine! Please sit down, for gods sake.

[Gods. Saying the word feels like his body has taken a dizzying step sideways without his permission, and Kravitz holds his head as he sits once more at his (extremely) comfy chair.]

I'll look it up, if you just- just stop talking.

[He takes a deep, centering breath, and swings round to the rather neglected front office computer. It's just a matter of opening the database, and entering some parameters and-

And...

Kravitz narrows his eyes and sits very still.]

[armcollector]

[Magnus' helplessness transforms instantly into surprised relief, and he hurriedly takes a seat in front of Kravitz's desk. Obediently, because he's half-convinced if he doesn't follow the instruction Kravitz will change his mind, he remains silent, but even still can't help but bounce a leg in restless anticipation, watching the man work.

And... he just kind of. Sits there. He doesn't speak, he's just... staring at the computer screen. Magnus stops breathing, waiting for Kravitz to say something, and when nothing comes he can't help his long-awaited outburst.]

W-Well?? Did you find her? Mrs. Burnsides?? Or... Anderson-Burnsides or whatever? Please say something, I'm freaking out.

[knockthemdead]

[Magnus' words don't seem to properly register, even if the sound of them rouses Kravitz from his daze. His eyes flick over to Magnus briefly and then back again, and he laughs hoarsely; a sound entirely devoid of amusement.]

This doesn't make sense, I- there's nothing.

[Hearing himself affirm it out loud stirs Kravitz into action. He leans away from the computer, shaking his head, and pulls out a file drawer from behind the desk. Frustration, bewilderment, and panic are all evident in the expression on his face as he digs through it, fingers moving with practiced ease.]

Absolutely nothing. I don't- no, wait, [He drops the files, just drops them, and sits up properly to spin the computer around so that Magnus can look at it.] Am I going insane? This is indecipherable, correct?

[It's immediately apparent what he means. There are words, certainly. But none of them make any sort of sense. It looks like the computer should work, but at the same time, focusing too hard on making anything happen just makes his head buzz.]

[armcollector]

[Magnus just stares silently at the computer, face frozen in shock.

After a period of stunned silence, he turns back to Kravitz and says, pointing to the screen,]

No, uh, see, this is just one of those coding languages. B minus minus or whatever. You're obviously in debug mode.

[Obviously. Magnus takes the mouse from Kravitz and starts poking around the computer's interface.]

Let me just... Uh... Fuck, what am I doing, I don't know how to work a computer. I feel like I've never seen one in my life.

[He just decides to grab the monitor and give it a good shake.]

cake wars

[weedbgon]

[ Merle rolled like a 2 in cake baking today, so he's not looking any better off than Kravitz in terms of potential winning. It's a huge mess and someone took the chair he was standing on so the top isn't evenly frosted. Shoulda made a weed brownie cake. Damn.

Just look at that reaper guy, prowling around, scoping out the competition. What a jerk. Probably, probably cheating or something. Merle knows he probably won't win this whole thing, but he's wondering if he can get a ballpark 98th place as long as Kravitz gets 99th? It's a snowball effect in his petty heart: he wants to be in a better place than everybody else, one person at a time.

Merle flips Kravitz off, but rolls a 2 on that too so like. He tries to do it with the 4-fingered wooden arm instead of the hand that has a middle finger left and has to swap out after a couple seconds. It's been long enough that he's not dedicated to being an ass to the guy, but sometimes in the middle of a baking contest you get charged up and really gotta go for the kill. ]

hi i love you

[knockthemdead]

[Merle is just so distracting with all of his failure that Kravitz temporarily gives up finding someone competent to just watch, eyebrow raised and lip curled. Imagine the most unimpressed expression, and times it by a hundred. There it is.]

Really? Honestly, Merle? Was that entirely necessary?

[weedbgon]

[ BUSTED.

Wait, he did that on purpose.

Kravitz just has such a vibe to him. It's like getting caught with the ol' hand in the cookie jar. Merle can't help a short laugh, because... why not. ]

Well, no. C'mon, it wouldn't be any fun to do if it was necessary! [ If it was his job to do it, he suddenly wouldn't want to for some reason. Huh. ] If I ever do it again, hopefully it'll be a little smoother. How am I gonna make a pit crew at this rate, right?

[knockthemdead]

[He sighs, and pinches at the bridge of his nose, as though listening to Merle talk is enough all by itself to give Kravitz a headache. It probably is.]

Obscene gesture pit crew. Incredible. Truly you- you aspire to such heights.

[He waves his hand at the mess of a cake in front of Merle.]

As this masterpiece only further proves.

[weedbgon]

Oh yeah, things are goin' great here. If it doesn't make the cut, I'll just eat it myself.

[ Win-win? No, wait. Win-lose, the lose just comes with mediocre cake. ]

How's yours coming along?

[knockthemdead]

[Kravitz opens his mouth and closes it again. Alright, Merle. You got him. He sniffs.]

I've decided to simply observe. Pick up some skills. Perhaps I should look elsewhere.

[THAT WAS MEANT TO BE A BURN, YES]

cake wars are serious business

[restinglichface]

[Lup's cake is going to be a fucking masterpiece. Natch.

There's still a handful of steps to get through before she's anywhere close to being finished, but she's been down this road enough times to know exactly how her creation is going to turn out. Multi-tiered with alternating chocolate and white cake layers, melt-in-your-mouth buttercream frosting, and maybe a little lattice work if she has time to pull it off. Either way, this cake is going to knock all of the other constants right on their asses.

She's just about to cut through one of her layers when Kravitz comes strolling by, a long serrated knife in hand as Lup spins her single cake layer on it's turntable, judging the perfect place to make that first cut. She's leaning over when her eyes flick upwards to the man. The attention doesn't bother Lup--let him look at her fucking perfect cake!!!--but she's not going to like it if he tries to steal any of her ideas, even if he has no chance of pulling them off.]

Might have more luck at your own station, homie.

the MOST serious

[knockthemdead]

[The attention he gives Lup's cake is certainly less judgemental, and more appraising. She's skilled, and he is somehow entirely not surprised. Honestly, he'll be truly surprised the day he learns of something Lup isn't good at.

He smiles sardonically, feeling a little caught out by her words.]

Somehow, I sincerely doubt that. [...] You're very good at this. But I'm sure you know that.

[restinglichface]

[One day she'll surprise him by totally flubbing something up. Until that day though, she's going to keep reminding him how perfect she is.

...Okay, let's be honest, she's still going to be throwing the word perfect around long after that.]

Duh. [Lup may thrive under attention, but she's not sure whether to preen or bristle under Kravitz's. Still, she grins, letting him admire her work so far. She waves the giant knife in her hand towards the base of her cake, then to the mixing bowl overflowing with delicate swiss meringue frosting. Yeah, she knows what she's doing.] That's stating the obvious.

Need a few tips, bone-boy? It'll cost you, but I'm nothing if not fair when making deals.

[knockthemdead]

[Of course. And he wouldn't dream of arguing it.

He doesn't mean it as an insult. Lup's confidence is... well, to be admired, certainly. Kravitz is just terrible at wording things, and tact, and literally everything to do with talking.

His mouth tilts up on one side in a half smile.]

I'm intrigued. What would you want in return?