test drive meme # 25

[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 October 25th, and apps are open November 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: THEY'RE GOOD DOGS BRENT
[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.

It looks like this time the Door is going for something very literally evil. This time, you get to play with some hell hounds, from various exciting places but in this case the Forgotten Realms tabletop setting.

Hell hounds are dog-shaped creatures, but you know... just a little bigger than normal. Or maybe a lot. They've also got glowing red eyes and smoke coming out of their mouths, because of course they do. They like to hunt in packs, and particularly enjoy surrounding a vulnerable target and breathing fire at it. Or biting. Whatever works! Yay, dogs!]

D E L I G H T

SCENARIO TWO: A SONG IN YOUR HEART
[It's a beautiful day, a beautiful morning, and on a day like this, all you want to do is sing! Okay, maybe you don't normally, but you sure do today. It seems like every moment calls for a new song, every little bump in the road can be paved over by singing about it. Even if you're upset or sad - well, a ballad is sure to make you feel better!

So let it all out, sing your heart out, and maybe throw in a dance number or two. Or maybe someone else is singing to you - a love confession? A song of thanks for all you've done? A catchy little ditty about how annoying it is that you always use up all the hot water? The sky's the limit!

Then again, maybe you're the one person not singing. Maybe you've managed to resist the urge, and think everyone else is absolutely bonkers. Go ahead, stare at them in horror as they serenade you. We're sure they won't be offended!]

C O M B I N A T I O N

SCENARIO THREE: BRING ME A DREAM
[You fell into a deep sleep the moment you laid your head down tonight - even if you don't usually sleep. And now you're dreaming, as would be expected. But this dream seems more vivid in some way, suffused with emotion. It could be a frightening dream, an angry one, a sad one. One full of hope, or a dream of the one you love, or a happy memory. Maybe it's just a confusing or calming dream - but whatever it is, it's soaking in that particular emotion.

And you aren't the only one there. Someone's come to visit your dream - they could be a stranger or a friend, or even an enemy. You can't shut them out, and you can't choose who they are. They'll be there with you in that dream, experiencing it. Unless, of course, you're the visitor, and you're in someone else's dream. Enjoy the show, if you can.

This is a mini version of our Dreamwalker event this month.]

Comments

Asher Mir | Destiny 2

[gensymscribe]

FEAR
[As A Guardian, Asher Mir is all too familiar with ending up in strange places with stranger foes. He's even had some experience with losing his grip on consciousness in one place, only to wake up in another altogether. The circumstances are different now... and less desirable. Before, it had been his exhausted, agonized collapse outside the sprawling Pyramidion on Io, only to find he has somehow been brought to a quiet medbay in the Tower--a safe space where agents of the Light like him could go to rearm themselves, or to recuperate.

This time... well, he'd still collapsed on Io, passing into a fitful slumber in his little research outpost. It's where he's woken up that's the problem: he doesn't recognize anything about this place, and that was deeply troubling--and more than a little vexing--to a man who liked to think he could come up with all the answers. At least this time he isn't sporting any new horrifying machine appendages.

... Not yet, anyways. As he picks himself up out of the dirt and starts brushing the dust off his robes, he spots something that nearly makes his heart stop: a pack of glowing red eyes staring at him from the dark recesses of this ancient structure. Cold terror trickles up his spine to seize his brain, and for half a second, Asher's mind suffers a debilitating flashback to the transtemporal, cybernetic war machines that imprisoned and experimented on him. It isn't until one of the creatures leaps out at him, followed closely by its pack members, that he realizes his error.

Asher Mir does not often revel in his mistakes, but the relief he feels at the knowledge that he's facing a pack of simple beasts and not the sprawling, coldly calculating Minds that had tortured him once already is so profound that he's able to snap into action. Having to fight isn't ideal for a man of his affliction, but he's not ready to lay down and die yet. And so he extends his flesh and bone arm and aims it at the first of the hellhounds-- feeling the Light ripple through his body, warring with the corruption seeping into him through his transformed limb-- and dispels a concentrated blast of Void energy right at the beast. It lets out a snarl before its body warps, twists, and disintegrates into nothing.

One down, too many to go for a man of poor health running on poor sleep. Asher curses under his breath as he readies another surge of his Light, but is not quite able to resist expending what of his energy remains on his usual cantankerous squawking.] Ikora! Assistant?! I require immediate assisstance! Where are you blasted fools when I actually need you?!

DELIGHT
[Given his no-nonsense outlook on life, his irascible demeanor, the recent trauma he endured in the heart of the Vex Pyramidion--and the terminal affliction that was born of said torture--Asher was not a man given over to feelings of Delight so easily. In fact, the only thing that niggling little desire in the back of his mind had managed to elicit in him was further irritation. Why did he feel like singing? He had nothing to sing about. He has been displaced from all he knew, from any research avenues that might have provided him some sort of... alternative to his ever-encroaching demise.

Lacking any other alternatives, he would have to gather more information about this strange cave so that he could set up and try again... but it was hard to make any progress in that regard when everyone else he came across was too busy giving in to the inclination to be even remotely helpful. He wasn't surprised at that last part; most people, he'd found, were useless--too simple to provide a mind as well-equipped as his with much he hadn't thought of already.

But walking around, trying to get things done despite the weariness plaguing his body and the pounding against the inside of his temples? Their disgusting, cheery droning only adding to his growing headache? This was a special kind of hell, one so ludicrous yet so effective that Asher wasn't entirely sure he hadn't been dropped into a Vex simulation with the sole aim of torturing him. He wasn't a man given to hiding his ire on the best of days, but with everything he'd been through in such a short period of time since being brought to Hadriel, the cantankerous Warlock seemed to snap fairly quickly, his ire unleashing itself upon the next person unfortunate enough to break out into song near him.]

Cease your inane intoning, you insufferable wretch! Is it not enough that I have to put up with encroaching beasts and concentration-shattering landers in my day to day life?! Must you add to my frustrations as well? I need peace and quiet if I am to get anything done, so be gone with you before you waste any more of my time!

seoya park / oc / will match format.

[arcuballista]

delight/ i'm under every influence

Have you ever heard the story
Of a man named Tony-

( It's a silly childish song, simple in its structure. Easy for just about anyone to make sound good, but the voice carries, crystal clear, across the street in a way that suggests its owner is not unfamiliar with the concept of vocal lessons. )

Went away to the store one day-

( Seoya hums the tune as her fingers trail the stained glass of the shop windows, steps light and easy - not quite a dance, but certainly more than walking. )

Bought his horse fresh hay
And you, fair friend, what do you say?

( Hi, stranger. Feel like joining in? )

fear/ and this ain't making any sense

( You stand in a clearing, alone, save for one young woman with a crossbow, dressed in simple suede trousers and a dark blouse. The grass underfoot crunches, yellowed and dry, each step coating shoes in a layer of dust. Surrounding trees stark, bare, bark peeling away as the wind howls and swirls around the circle until there's nothing but dirt and the burning orange of a sky alight in vision. )

Crap-

( Seoya coughs as she turns back, reaching for you with her head ducked and eyes screwed tight to try and protect herself against the debris flying around in the tornado. )

Come on, we have to leave! Quickly.

( This isn't a suggestion. Something's coming. )

Feliciano Vargas | Hetalia

[norditalia]

Fear:

[It's not the first time Veneziano falls asleep for a quick nap and wakes up in a completely different place, he doesn't open his eyes too easily and yes... it happened before that people just carried him around either for safety reasons or because they needed him. He usually handles it well, there have been a couple of times he found himself in a prison but Italy always managed to escape, either on his own or with the help of his allies- but he never woke up in a place like the Arena.]

"Eh? EEEH?"

[He jumps on his feet, nervously studying his surroundings while squishing a poor pillow between his arms. Has he been captured again? But who would? They live in a time of relative peace right now why would someone kidnap one of the less important countries of Europe? Italy has no time to focus on what's happening, thought, since a whole pack of hell hounds is charging in his direction... before realizing it he's already screaming at the top of his lungs and running around trying to escape the infernal dogs.]

A song in your heart

"It's another wonderful day in the ca-veeeee~ Someday we'll be out even if it isn't today~ Meanwhile we all sing together the captive's son telling of bad food, lack of beaches and sun!"

[Someone doesn't seem bothered at all by the current weird curse imposed on the city's prisoners... Italy loves singing, even normally he can be heard humming melodies while he pretends to work or tries to focus on something. Italy's just... there, happily approacing others to join their songs, attempting to serenade the ladies of the city or his friends. Who is he to complain if the cave's current 'curse' forces him to sing? He loves it! And while he's aware of his weakness as a country he's also quite confident of his voice.

"When I'll finally go home I'll celebrate with good pasta and wine~ But as long as we're here let's try to have fun with what we have, yahoo!"


Bring me a dream

[Italy is Italy and of course his dream is full of hope, delight and love. He's in a large kitchen with countless pots cooking in front of him, a table behind the man is also full of supplies and he seems focused on preparing specialities from... well, from all over the world. Food that would culturally gross him out aren't nowhere to be seen but he seems to try his best to accomodate all cuisines, this because... well, there's apparently a large party going on in the nearby room: large tables seem to accomodate hundreds of people of different nationalities- or at least those humans in his world call 'nations'.

An old looking Radio keeps playing some old songs still really popular in Italy and from the other room comes only the sound of happy chatters and laughters, Veneziano happily humms some notes while his butlers come back with empty trays of food: a man who is almost the exact copy of Veneziano, just with darker skin and hair, and a tall man who blonde hair, blue eyes and black clothes- he... may be unfamiliar even to those of Veneziano's world, even if he greatly resembles the german brothers Italy adores so much.]

"Who knew all we needed to get them to stop fightning was some good food?"
"Shut up, Holy Potato, of course good food can fix everything! I just don't get why I have to work while the others sit there doing nothing. Oh well... neh, Feli, we're out of porkolt, bigos and that thaiwanese dish..."

[The one complaining, Veneziano's older brother, throws the used trays on the table and they just seem to... disappear, after all cooking is fun but cleaning after the mess made isn't and Italy's dream won't have any of that.]

"Just look around, fratellone, there's all you need around here!"

[That's it, nothing can go wrong and everyone will be happy, friendly and hopefully less focused on working in the future. Who knows, maybe after this lunch they'll have a big siesta together, play soccer, music or something else! He smiles at the two men who are getting back in the dining room with more delicious treats for their guests and sighs happily, nothing can ruin this day. Nothing. ]

Delight

[hoperulesdespairdrools]

[And just behind you there loud, enthusiastic clapping.] Amazing!
That beautiful voice just fills my heart with joy and hope! How wonderful!

[Wait. Where did he come from?]

[arcuballista]

( Oh. Oh, that's good for the ego. Seoya grins brightly - she's never heard that specific compliment before, but she'll take it. )

Aren't you sweet?

( She rocks forward on the balls of her feet and tilts her head with a laugh. )

Let me hear you!

( This city is interesting, but it is sorely lacking in the sing-a-longs and bards that are found in taverns. )

Beverly Marsh | IT

[winterfired]

( Scenario 1 )

[One moment Beverly is walking away from Bill, leaving behind the Barrens and finally feeling at least a little bit safe, and then she's here. No sunshine, no summer warmth, no safety. The last becomes apparent when suddenly she hears the sound of growling not far behind her. For a moment she takes a deep breath, shuts her eyes and turns to look.

Just a dog just a dog just a dog. All that weird, horrible, supernatural is over. They defeated that thing. Things should be normal and--

No, that is no dog whatsoever.

Beverly doesn't run though, because she is done being afraid of things. ...that doesn't mean she's not looking around for anything to help out here, backing up slowly. She manages to grab up a rock. Then another. And when the dog-thing goes to lunge at her she pelts one of the stones at it.] Get away from me!



( Scenario 2 )

[First it's just humming. That's all. And that's fine right. Humming is normal.

Then she's singing softly, mostly under her breath. ...not abnormal. But now that she thinks about it weird. She stops. Wrinkles her nose. Calm it down, Beverly.

Back to walking, through the city streets. Then it's less under her breath and much, much louder.] First time was a great time, second time was a blast, third time I fell in love, now I hope it lasts...

[Damn it! New Kids on the Block. Somehow this is Ben's fault.]



( Scenario 3 )

[It's a nightmare. It's a nightmare twisted up in a memory which makes it all the worse somehow. It feels real, but it feels wrong.

There is blood everywhere. The room is drenched from floor to ceiling, down the walls. Beverly herself is covered in it, clothes drenched, face streaked with it. It's not her bathroom this time. This room... it's huge, and endless, and she can't find the door.]

Not again... not again. Let me out!! [Beverly's hands pat and claw frantically at the blood-smeared walls.]

Barry Bluejeans | The Adventure Zone: Balance

[barold]

Fig. 1: FEAR (C9H13NO3) (C21H30O5)

[It isn't unusual for Barry to awaken in strange and unfamiliar places. Dark, musty caves for the most part, where he'd take tentative steps on bare feet into a cold, cavernous room full of strange things that must have belonged to him, but he couldn't quite seem to comprehend them. Maps with markings and crosses he didn't understand, notes in his own tiny handwriting full of words that made his head spin and struggle, clothing that fit him perfectly in a chest he'd never seen before. A strange coin that spoke in his own voice and told him where to go and what to do next - and surely he could trust himself to lead him in the right direction. So he'd follow his own orders, emerging into a world he barely recognized with a sense of confusion and a dull, heavy aching in the core of his being, unable to remember how he ended up there. That part's not unusual.

What is unusual about waking up this time - it's striking and immediate and hits him as soon as he regains consciousness - is how he does remember. He remembers the IPRE, he remembers the Light, the Hunger, the Relics, Fisher, everything. He remembers why there's a dull, heavy aching in the core of his being. It all floods back so quickly in a crushing, nauseating wave, Barry is shuddering and panting before he's even opened his eyes. Why does he remember now? What changed, what's different this time?

There's snarling, for one. Pacing steps surrounding him. The stench of burning flesh, thick and heavy in the air. There's no time to wonder. As soon as he realizes he's not alone, Barry startles, pushes himself up off the ground, heaving for air as he tries to focus his gaze on the source. It proves difficult. The left lens of his glasses has shattered, cracks in the thick glass fanning out in a web over his eye, making the approaching hounds blur together in a disorienting haze. He can't tell how many there are. But they're all around him, and they're closing in. Terror grips him as the severity of the situation dawns on him. He has no idea where he is or how he got here. He is surrounded on all sides by massive, sizzling beasts, fangs bared in hungry snarls and claws scraping at the dusty ground. The heat from their bodies, curling around them and building deep in their throats is so great it's penetrating his robes, warming his skin, but the chill gripping his gut is making him tremble. He is all alone.]

L... L-Little help? [He calls out to no one in particular. A badly shaking hand reaches slowly into his robes, clumsily groping for his wand - a futile effort, probably, but an instinctual one. Even if he could take out one, maybe two, the rest would be on him in seconds. But he has to defend himself, right? He can't die, not now, not here, separated from his equipment, without a new body, without a contingency plan. He can't risk getting stuck in an incorporeal form when there's a chance she's still out there. He can't be all alone, there has to be someone. Barry tries again, raises his voice, cracking now with desperation.] Anybody? Could-- C-Could use a hand over here!


Fig. 2: DELIGHT (C8H11NO2) (C10H12N2O)

Where'd I put it... C'mon, c'mon...

[It's been a weird day. Most days are weird by virtue of everything being new and confusing still, but usually that kind of weirdness subsides or at least plateaus sometime between lunch and dinner, so Barry doesn't completely lose his mind. Not today. The air has felt weird, the water has tasted weird, the residents have all been weird(er than normal). It's gotten completely under Barry's skin, and he's been unable to sit still and ignore it the way he usually does.

Not to say it's been unpleasant. It surprises him a little to realize he's not bothered by this feeling. It's a kind of jittery excitement, an urge to do... something, to just let everything out and have everyone hear it. To share in something fun and light-hearted. But to do that, he needs to find--]

There y'are! [Barry grins triumphantly as he pulls out several tattered pages from the folder he's been leafing through, his heart in his throat as he studies the familiar markings. It's perfect. Rushing over to the grand piano he'd been lucky enough to find, Barry arranges the newly retrieved sheet music on the little stand and drops onto the stool, hands and feet immediately finding their place on keys and pedals like no time has passed at all. It's like a piece slots into place as he plays the first note. Goosebumps rise on his skin, his shoulders sink, his smile widens, easy and carefree as he plays the song that's been burning inside him all day. Frustrating as it is, especially today, Barry can't sing to save his life.

But he sure as hell can play.]

3

[notimpervious]

[There is no way this is real. Heather Taffet tried to drown Booth, but not in blood. This is not how she buried her victims. After two weeks of dreams like this, Brennan is certain she can tell a dream from reality.

This is the former, and a terrible one at that.

There is a child here, her fear palpable amid the confusion. Brennan stays in the doorway she has found -- how, she is not certain -- and calls to the girl in a firm, clear voice.]

This way! I can get you out of here. I am waving my hand high. If you can't see it, then follow my voice. I am here to help you!

[salace]

[Honestly France isn't the courageous and heroic type. He's not. He's grown out of his impulsive, heroic ages, past looking for adventure and conflict. Well well beyond it. So maybe it's strange that he's made his way to the arena. But he's heard that there's a cycle to new arrivals. And if people arrive here, perhaps there's some clue to how to get home? Perhaps?

Or perhaps there will be another familiar face. There have been a couple, after all. So even if he's sure it's a terrible idea, he's made his way to the arena. But he is creeping around carefully. And he's armed this time! Sort of armed, anyway. He's got a... well it's the metal pole to a metal shelf from a store that he's borrwed. Long, heavy and metal. Better than nothing.

Either way, when he hears screaming, France doesn't immediately think it familiar (because he's not the type of friend who knows how his friends sound screaming that is not his thing) but he still wants to help. So Italy, in the middle of his running, will find himself caught by the back of his collar and yanked unceremoniously towards the alcove France is tucked away in.] Chut!. This way... Quickly now. Those are bad dogs, I think and--

[Hold please.] You? [This is not the time or place for reunions, France. Please remember this.]

[winterfired]

[Beverly is trying to tell herself that this has to be a nightmare. But the problem is, after everything that she's just survived back home, that line is blurrier than ever between what is a terrible dream and what is real, what shouldn't be able to be real but is so, so real.

She startles at the sound of that voice, not one she knows.

Her heads whips around trying to find who the speaker is, but everything just feels so warped.]

I can't see you! [But she can follow the voice. Though her steps are tentative.] ...who are you? [Not some trick? Not that clown toying with her?

Beverly wipes a hand over her eyes, trying to clear the blood from them.]

Fear;

[restinglichface]

[Barry J. Bluejeans. After a hundred years together fighting alongside of the twins, one would think that some of their street smarts would have rubbed off onto you more. If your enemy outright overpowers you, sometimes you just have to get a little creative in your thinking.

The hounds snarl, snapping and frothing at the mouth, advancing on Barry all at once with only the worst of intentions, each ghastly paw forward dividing the human's survival rate for this encounter into fractions.

--Until quite suddenly, their numbers are instantly halved. A wall has risen up just in front of the man, towering above Barry and stretching at least ten yards in each direction. Still, it's most impressive feature is that it's solid flames, burning high and bright and hot, but also completely opaque. Most of the hounds that had been in front of the man are immediately trapped behind it, yelping out in pain at the wave of fire damage that's dealt to them on their side.

Barry should recognize the spell as Wall of Fire, a familiar fourth-level evocation spell that had been used at least a handful of times along their century-long journey together by a certain evocation specialist. Defensive spells had never really been very Lup, but there's just something about a twenty-foot flaming wall that speaks to her liched-up soul.

Naturally, with her trademark spell cast and her boyfriend (momentarily) saved, Lup appears, standing behind Barry and the rest of his pack of bloodthirsty hounds who remainl, her hands casually resting on her hips. Gods, just turn around and look at her, you nerd.]

Hey, boyfriend! [she calls out with that familiar curling grins of hers, the woman's tone far too casual considering she hasn't really had a chance to speak to this man at all in the last twelve years. Unfortunately, their reunion is going to have to come later. There are still hell hounds to deal with.]

You know the drill, Barold. Wall's up for sixty seconds. Think we can put the rest of these puppies down before time runs out? You with me or what?

fear aka here comes the boner squad

[pocketspa]

[At this point, Taako's been in the Coliseum at the point everyone crashes into existence every month for a while; there's always been someone, something he's waiting for, even if he doesn't know what it is yet. Sometimes, it's great. Sometimes, it pisses him off. Look at this, regularity and helping or some shit. Ridiculous.

As soon as everyone drops, he's moving, casting a quick blink so he can move freely, weaving between people and monsters. He makes a personal mental note not to dare let Magnus drag one of the dogs in the goddamn house, because he will, before blinking back after the first six seconds ten feet from the front. Rinse, repeat, study.

He hears Barry's voice before he sees him, spotting him still in the Ethereal plane, and suddenly glad he's not visible so Barry can't see the smile that pulls on his face.

Thank god, Lup will finally stop riding his ass about making out with his boyfriend.

One second, Barry's alone, and the next, Taako blinks back into this plane right at his side, Umbra Staff already drawn and ready to rumble.]

'Bout time you showed up. Kinda thought the pocket spa might've eaten you.

[The air's already humming with energy, frost beginning to gather at the Umbra Staff's tip.]

You gonna be good to tag-team this or is this just a rescue mission?

[barold]

[-- complex visual hallucinations may affect certain individuals in pathological states. Conditions causing these hallucinations include narcolepsy-cataplexy syndrome, peduncular hallucinosis, migraine coma, schizophrenia, epilepsy, hallucinogen-induced states, acute stress disorder--

It might be a bit of a reactionary self-defense mechanism, privately and spontaneously recalling fractions of a study he'd taken interest in several decades ago. As soon as he'd turned, as soon as he'd seen, the words had started rattling in his head almost on auto-pilot in an effort to keep his knees from buckling and his lungs from giving out. It's improbable that he's remembering the study correctly. It's, in fact, utterly impossible. But so is this. So is this scene unfolding before Barry's eyes-- expansion on previous hypotheses suggest three mechanisms underlying complex visual hallucinations. (i) Epileptic hallucinations are probably due to a direct irritative process acting on cortical centers integrating complex visual information--

Twelve years, he's searched. He's forgotten and remembered and grieved and mourned and ached, and he's continued searching even after he'd settled into knowing he'd never be with her again, because damn it, you spend a hundred years with someone, is some fucking closure too much to ask? If even her lich form was gone without a trace, what hope was there left? Apparently he's reached some new emotional echelon now, some fresh new hell brought on by intense release of stress hormones, because she's right there in front of him and he can feel her flames kissing his skin and hear her voice, and you're not supposed to hear a visual hallucination are you, is this auditory-verbal as well-- (ii) Visual pathway lesions cause defective visual input and may result in hallucinations from defective visual processing or an abnormal cortical release phenomenon. (iii) Brainstem lesions appear to affect ascending cholinergic and serotonergic pathways--

Whatever the cause of this vision (should hallucinations appear warped from broken glasses like this?), this apparition in the shape of the woman he's loved for longer than men have lived, smiling and confidently teasing him as flames roar at his back (he can't cast Wall of Flame, where did it come from?), Barry will take it. If this is his brain scrambling for motivation to fight, to get out of this alive (he's almost forgotten what her voice sounds like, why can he hear her so clearly?), Barry has certainly heard of worse.]

Y-You got it, Lup. [His voice sounds far away. He takes a shuddering breath, a greedy gulp of air as he pulls out his wand and readies himself, emboldened and empowered by her visage. He fires off several high-powered Withering Rays at the beasts, enough of them to ensure a hit on his blurry targets, whimpering and roaring in pain when struck by his magic-- these lesions, outside the primary visual system, may cause defective modulation of thalamocortical relationships leading to a release phenomenon. Perturbation of a distributed matrix may explain the production of similar, complex mental phenomena by relatively blunt insults at disparate sites--]

the good squad, the best squad

[barold]

[There's a split-second, right as the elf blinks into being beside him and he catches a glimpse of him in his periphery, where Barry's heart stops. Just gives out in his chest for a sickening moment before he actually recognizes him, takes in the differences, before he realizes - and then it's like his brain follows suit, giving out for a solid second and a half as he tries to process.]

Taako?

[What is he doing here? How long has he been here? Nevermind where here is, he'll have to figure that out some other time. After they get out of here. The hounds, initially startled by Taako's sudden appearance, start snarling and barking at the pair, flames flickering on their black tongues, as they ready to pounce on their prey.

The motions return to Barry then, shakily, one by one, the wand in his hand crackling with energy and his weight shifting to ready a dodge. Just like they'd fought the forces of the Hunger side by side for decades. Of course Barry's good to tag-team - he's got backup now.]

I-I can't tell how many there are, bud. Help a brother out a-and nab half for me, would ya?

delight;

[humandroid]

[ Data's fascination with the performing arts long predated his arrival in Hadriel. Even setting aside his capacity to play his fair share of instruments, or his capacity to learn the technical aspects of playing them relatively quickly, music in particular remains one of his more vested interests.

Passion and composition. Emotion and technical ability. Determination. Imperfections, however slight, variations in each individual performance. He can perform the same musical piece in precisely the same way fifty times in a row. He cannot experience feeling and hearing the music transform between renditions as he goes along.

At its core, music is so very... human. This interference of the gods has brought Data no shortage of delight of his own, much as he might not recognize it as such yet. Whether sung or simply played, every performance he's witnessed today has been fascinating, wondrous, even. All creativity and shifting expressions.

Data is able to pick up on the sounds of a piano being played from quite some distance, and wastes pretty much no time making a beeline to observe Barry in action. Not very many individuals have forsaken singing for playing. He watches with steady, unblinking focus through the entire number, because why the heck not, basically. He doesn't interrupt: he was programmed with etiquette subroutines, after all.

All bets are off once the music comes to a conclusion. ]

I congratulate you on demonstrating that you are a pianist of considerable skill. However, I am afraid I did not recognize the composition. Was it your original work?

Asriel Dreemurr | Undertale | Thisavrou CRAU

[pleasereset]

[Fear.]

[Asriel didn't know what to expect once he was thrown into one of the Ingress' portals, only that his world was currently falling apart all around him. It could have been anywhere - another planet, another ship in space-

Or, a huge Colosseum with a bunch of unfamiliar faces. Before he has time to process where he is, the sounds of screams and fighting fill the air as giant hellhounds lunge forward and begin attacking everywhere. He quickly gets up, still disoriented, and tries running wherever could possibly be safe.

He doesn't get far. He doesn't even make it to the exit. He gets cornered against a wall by three dogs, smoke and trickling flames coming from their mouths. Asriel's pressed against the wall, terrified and holding a small, glowing round disk in his hand. It's his only weapon, but he has no idea if it'll protect him against fire.]

S-stay away!

Ryou Bakura | Yu-Gi-Oh

[softspokenlandlord]

A. NO ONE FEAR

[Ryou was used to having an extremely unconventional life. You spend enough time wearing an evil piece of gold and being possessed by a dark entity, the lines of weird and unusual begin to blur. But after having been able to live his life freely for a while, sue him. He'd gotten complacent.

Now here he was, running from a horrifying dog. If it wasn't trying to kill him, he might actually consider it interesting, but since he's running for his life...first impressions on this hellhound will have to come later.

He can't run long though--he's not exactly an athlete, as those long limbs and pale skin indicate. Get out in the sun, kiddo. He's already breathing pretty heavily, and a quiet whimper breaks the cadence of his gasps. He can't hold out much longer.]

Help...!!! Someone...please...


B. Not Actually That Bad

[Ever seen Dungeons and Dragons? Well, then this should look familiar!

Except that there's...an elaborately detailed board being put together on a rather large table. The sections of the board are all mostly unique and interlocking, and it appears as if the last piece has been set into place with a firm click.

The architect of this miniature world lets out a relieved sigh, then moves to sit near the head of the board, taking his seat near the castle diorama. There, he picks up a small, unfinished carving and sets about whittling in the details. Occasionally as he works, he picks up a small piece of sandpaper, gently smoothing out the edges before moving on.

He's pretty well taken up in his work, glancing occasionally at a reference photo. On said photo are several high-school aged young men, joined as well by a young woman. It appears the figure he's working on is the shortest of them all, and Ryou's quite careful not to leave any details out. His contentment is pretty obvious; Delight's bound to have a good time with him, though the teen scarcely knows it!]

scenario 3

[multivitamins]

[ This place is totally messed up and that's before sleep is even taken into consideration. Every day there's something new that makes Eddie stop and lament whatever life choices had pulled him in to this place.

When he goes to sleep, Eddie doesn't think on the idea that he could wind up somewhere else in his dreams and when he looks around the room he can already feel his chest starting to tighten. Blood everywhere. It looked like several pigs had exploded and then some more. He doesn't know what's worse really; the blood or the fact he doesn't know where it came from.

That thought has Eddie gagging, putting a hand to his chest as he does his best not to be sick. The last time he'd seen something like this was Beverly's bathroom when that stupid clown had - ]

Hello? [ Wait is that Beverly? Eddie pauses to gag once again before looking around. This shit is gross and making his eyes water, fuck.]

1

[knifecollecting]

[Jo hadn't had a gun to bring on arrival day most of her year here.

Suddenly she's glad she has one, when she comes into the colosseum and finds giant dogs who look like they might breathe fire. She's not getting close enough to use her machete on these.

She hears a girl yelling and turns to find the source, finally spotting one of these monsters preparing to jump.]

Hey, get down!

[restinglichface]

[At the sound of her voice cutting through the tense air between monster and man, the hounds nearest to Lup had quickly turned from Barry to round on her instead, the woman meeting their snapping jaws with a wide, toothy grin of her own. It's damn near impossible to find real terror in anything now after all that Lup's lived through. A pack of mangy, flaming dogs got nothing on the Hunger.

--Especially after having dealt so long with Peanut. Dogs just don't scare her.

Lup watches Barry as he moves to attack, her gaze lingering just a second or two longer than she normally would allow in the middle of combat, the elf drawn to his expression. Even after twelve years apart, Lup can sense something isn't quite right there, that Barry's big science brain is going into overdrive for no reason. And maybe it's narcissistic of her to think, but his soft stammer in response just doesn't hold any of the delight it should after seeing her. Barry's always been a man who wears his heart on his sleeve, never denying Lup the glee of hearing just how much he adored her in his tone alone.

Still, it'll have to come later. Barry manages to cut through a few of the dogs, their whimpering cries inciting the hounds on the other side of the wall who yowl and snarl in retailation, then yelp when they come too close to the wall's powerful flames.

Lup's speciality is fire, which just isn't going to be as effective in this scenario, so it's a good thing she always has a few other elemental spells at the ready just in case. She casts a souped-up version of Lightning Bolt, the bolt striking out a clear path in front of her and cutting right through two of the hounds, just barely missing a third. She laughs, as if her over-confidence might send the remaining dogs running in fright, but that laughter dies abruptly when she catches sight of one of the dogs approaching Barry on his blind side with it's teeth bared.]

Hey, check your left! [But Lup's already throwing up a hand and casting Gust of Wind, catching the dog just before it leaps, the powerful force tumbling the hound backwards right into her wall where it writhes and whimpers while being held against the flames. Barry might stumble back a little from the force of that spell too if his saving throw just doesn't cut it, but Lup's putting her faith in her boyfriend being on top of this.

Or at least forgiving her if he gets a little singed.]

[notimpervious]

[Well then, Brennan will just have to keep talking.]

Then listen-- I will list out the bones in the human skeleton until you find me.

[Whos she is seems... a lot less relevant than getting this girl out of this nightmare, but if it will help, Brennan will answer the question.]

My name is Temperance.

[And then she starts her recitation of the 206 bones in the human body, by name. It was either that or the periodic table of elements. Sorry, Beverly. Your savior is a huge nerd.]

[winterfired]

[Beverly is trying not devolve into a full on panic at the endlessness of the room, of everything covered in slick red blood, shiny in the odd and unnatural light she hasn't gotten to the point of thinking this is a dream yet; it feels real and irrefutable in the way that dreams can seem sometimes. And there doesn't seem to be any way to get out, to get away.

She's not expecting anyone else to be there. Her father had found her the first time, and the idea of him showing up (he can't be won't he's gone, the mantra repeats and repeats) is even more unsettling.

Then there's a voice and Beverly turns away from her desperate search of the wall.]

Eddie..! [Surprised and relieved and confused all braided together into a tone that she nearly has to choke out. She's already moving towards him and honestly she's planning on throwing her arms around him and hugging him out of relief and the need to assure he's real, before she remembers she's as covered in gore as the rest of the room. No hugging. Instead she winds her arms tightly around herself.] It's happening again. How is it happening again?

[winterfired]

[Beverly watches the first stone she threw strike true and mostly just anger the canine monster rather than slow it or dissuade it from attacking the skinny redhead.

Shit.

For a moment she's frozen, not sure what she can do and then she hears those words. A fraction of a moment's hesitation and she drops because really she doesn't have any other good options! Beverly hits the deck, curling into a small ball, arms up to shield her head and face in case the thing attacks.]

[winterfired]

You'll what...

[Oh. It's biology class to the rescue. There's something so strange and surreal about listening to someone list off the parts of the human skeleton that it somehow sets something in Beverly at ease. Gives her something to concentrate on. Both to follow the voice but also the mix of familiar and unfamiliar words.

She follows the sound of the science lesson until,]

I see you...[And a door. Thank god. But curiously as she approaches the woman, it's clear she's a grown up. So then...] You're an adult. ...can you see the blood?

Bellamy Blake | The 100

[jettisons]

i - fear

[Bellamy doesn't have a weapon, but he's not sure that matters, because who the hell knows if these things can even be killed? It's a much more fantastical thought than the ones he's prone to having, but these things are breathing fire and smoke, so fantastical seems to be the order of the day.

He's not stupid. He doesn't actually need to kill these things, just get away from them as fast as he can, so once he's sure most of the hellhounds are distracted, he turns on his heel and runs, sprinting for what he hopes is an exit. If anyone gets in his way or seems to be lagging, he'll make a grab for their arm to drag them along.]

Move!

[It's not a suggestion, it's a clearly barked, and somewhat rude, order.]

ii - delight

[This place is driving Bellamy insane. There's nothing he can really do here, no material way he can help, which means he has a lot of free time. A disgusting amount of free time. After spending the last year either at war or desperately trying to stop it, he has no idea what to do with himself. How do people relax, again?

The speakeasy seems like a good bet. He doesn't recognize any of the alcohol, and he's pretty much lost his ability to chill with a drink without one of his friends goading or threatening him into it, but he's wandered the cave for the past few days and his tiny apartment is starting to feel like a cell, so here he is.

Except... people are singing. A lot of people are singing, and some of them are even dancing. Half of them aren't in tune, and most of them are singing by themselves, creating a discordant, hard to follow chorus of song. After about five minutes, Bellamy downs the rest of his drink, makes a face, and shakes his head.]

This place really is going to make me lose my mind.