dankmemes | 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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.

[It takes all of his considerable impulse control - of which there is already very little - not to decide to leave the shoes for another time and just pick her up and find a flat goddamn surface, but situational awareness is a Hell of a thing even when his hand is tightening against her.

Nate doesn't really have the luxury of lingering on the thought, though.]

Smack-talk, already? Wow.

[Reluctantly Nate pulls away, fingers trailing soft cotton and turning into an accusatory point when he moves back enough for the gesture to be effective.]

I'm gonna find you the most embarrassing pair of shoes.

[As if they don't both like the smack-talk.

It would be nice to stay close and see where things go, but whether or not more monsters could make their way in here, people still could. Shoes first, continued reunion later.]

Yeah, you'd know about that, wouldn't you.

[Not that he has especially bad shoe taste. That's not the point. Smack-talk doesn't have to be grounded in logic.]

Come on, cowboy. Let's get me some shoes and then you can show me our new home.

Edited (html!!! it must be correct even in a fadeout) 2017-08-14 19:38 (UTC)

Test Drive Meme #22

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