dankmemes | TEST DRIVE MEME #5

Entry tags:

!test drive

TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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 January 25th, and apps are open February 1st.

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: HERE KITTY KITTY
[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.

Watch out as you explore the streets of Hadriel, because you're not alone, and there's always something on the rooftops watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to separate you from your group and tear you into pieces. This time, the Door has brought in coeurls, from the video game Final Fantasy X for you meet.

These cat-like monsters can use elemental magic to attack, as well as their teeth and claws. When injured, they can cast a spell that will drain energy from their attacker and give it to them - and they are even able to temporarily petrify you. So if you decide to fight, let's hope you can finish them off quick!]

SCENARIO TWO: BURIED ALIVE
[What a wonderful day to find yourself - or a friend, or a stranger - buried six feet under. Covered in thick earth, the sturdy oak walls of the coffin trapping you in darkness, all alone. Not a soul to hear any cries of help.

Either you're in a coffin yourself, trapped, hoping for rescue, or you've got a GPS, a set of coordinates, and a shovel. Will you try to claw your way out of your possible grave, using only your bare hands and pure terror? Or will you be the one digging, hoping that down below is someone you love, waiting for you to unearth them?

Just don't take too long. Their air - your air - could run out at any moment.

This is a mini version of our Buried Alive event this month!]

R A G E

SCENARIO THREE: PET PEEVED
[Everything seems to be going just wrong enough to drive you right up the wall. Maybe your shoes keep coming untied, or you slammed your finger in the door while you were leaving the house. Maybe your friend keeps using the wrong form of 'your/you're' when they text you. Maybe that guy in the shop with you won't get off his damn phone.

Whatever it is, your day has been full of tiny annoyances, enough to leave you on edge and just about ready to explode. They're such little things, nothing that should inspire so much anger, but one after another - well, shouldn't anyone understand why you're mad?

And then someone else comes along, perfectly primed to push your buttons. Maybe they keep pronouncing your name wrong, or they won't stop staring at your scar, or they have hair just the right color to remind you of your last ex. You're already primed for a fight, and they seem just as pissed as you. What will you do?]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Nice! [huzzah, and he didn't blow up!] But if the power's been off, then if they have a fridge, everything in it is probably bad. Not that I couldn't cook something out of just rice and canned goods, but fresh food is so much better.

[Sanji goes back to the pantry he busted open and starts pulling boxes and cans off the shelf. Nothing seems to be properly labeled. Ugh, is he going to have to taste-test everything to see if it's gone off? Not his favorite job in the world.]

[Ronan doesn't point out the obvious fact, which is that he was dreaming when he wrote that note. Things like that- the magic of Cabeswater, the instability of time, the way that memories are shaped and formed and then just gone- all of that feels so much more possible when he's asleep and can bend the world to his will. Out here it's different, and somehow believing in and acknowledging the presence of something as impersonal and separate from him as this place, the magic of it, the fucking Door- it unsettles him in a deep way.

His jaw goes tight for a fraction of a second, uneasy and apprehensive of whatever magic could cause this, but he knows in the end that Gansey is right. That Gansey is always right- all of them being together again is what matters, not the how and why of it. Even if he doesn't remember, he's still Gansey. That's not going to change.

Ronan eyes him for a moment before nodding reluctantly and pushing the matter from his mind.]

Yeah.

[There are more immediate concerns to be addressed with anyway, and Ronan turns sideways on the pew to face him, lifting a foot onto the bench and resting his knee on the back of the seat.

It's good to see him again. Ronan knows that the elation he feels has no place in a conversation when Gansey is injured and doesn't remember the last eight months, or when they've just been chased down and cornered by a magical feline monster, or when he's still berating himself for not somehow finding him earlier- but there's an undercurrent of joy and relief to all of it anyway.]

What happened to you?

[He's referring, of course, to the blood and dirt and bruising, but anything else that Gansey wants to add is fine too.]

[He hears him a moment before he sees him, and Rome takes a few steps back, watching intently as the other wolf leaps between the two of them. The cat hisses in turn and circles warily, suddenly not sure about its attack, now that there are two large and threatening things in the mix.

Rome takes the valuable time to quickly release the magazine on his gun, pressing his fingers over the barrel to see if it's still too frozen to risk firing. It is. Luckily, the coeurl begins to back down, and Romulus loads the gun again quickly- it's useless like this, but the presence of it could still be useful as a bargaining tool- and watches as the cat spits at the both of them before slinking away.

There's a pause. The weapon is low by his side, and Rome levels his gaze toward the wolf in front of him.]

I know what you are, [he finally murmurs- polite, but not quite soft.] It stands to reason that you know what I am as well.

I am not. I don't know who did.

[Whoever it was is clearly sadistic. Rome looks down at the coffin again, his mouth pressed in a thin line, clearly disapproving, before turning his attention back toward Morgan.]

I have water and food with me.

[With that, he grabs onto the ledge and vaults himself back up from the hole he'd dug, turning back after a moment and reaching to help Morgan up out of there.]

[It all happened so fast, the flash of lightning, the pain in his backside as he hit the ground, and hard... Before he knew what was happening, he could hear the death cries of the Coeurl as the summoner made quick work of it.

By the time he has regained his wits, Tala is offering him a hand. He smiles up at her, taking it with his own, rising to his feet with her aid.]

Aye, that I can, though little would I be able to had you not stopped that coeurl dead in its tracks.

[Though he looks a touch bashful for a moment.]

Here I had come to offer you mine aid, but it looks as though 'twas I who needed yours. I thank you, Lady—

[He lets that trail a bit, as if an invitation for her to introduce herself.]

[It takes him a moment before he feels together enough to pull himself up out of the hole, and even then, Rome is surprised at how shaky he is. Enough time without food and water, confined to a small space- that would probably do it. He turns back when he's done, crouching on the edge of the hole to stare inside the coffin where he'd spent the majority of the past day or so. Now that he's out, it doesn't quite seem real.

Still, after a moment, Romulus moves to stand, stretching out his legs a little with a sigh. He doesn't blame her for being paranoid, either- it would definitely be a thought that would cross his mind as well.

Ultimately, he's just thankful. He's not sure how to convey that properly, but he tries.]

I'm glad you didn't, either.

[There's a pause, before he extends his hand- albeit slowly, as if gauging the social implications of the gesture midway. She did just save his life and dig him out of a premature grave, but that doesn't make this any less of an introduction, does it?]

Romulus Hart. Lieutenant in the lycan division of Frankfurt. [Though, there's a not insignificant pause at the end of that, when he begins to fully take in his surroundings- the cave ceiling, the dilapidated buildings around them...] -though it seems that we aren't anywhere near there now.

[Her eyes widen at the notion. He...he doesn't know who she is? After everything with helping Francel and sheltering her, Alphinaud and Tataru after the assassination attempt in Ul'dah? She couldn't help but look at the tears in his chainmail and the hole in his shield, keeping her head down as she speaks.]

You...don't remember me?

[It's easy to scream and cry at the sudden revelation but where would that go in the end? Here she is talking to a dead man and things are not making sense. But when did her life make any sense since stepping into Ul'dah that day? It's not like she can say that she's been a ward of his family for a bit and that she was there when he was stricken down by the Heavens Ward. ]

[His expression falls at her question, his mind racing as he tries to place her. Her face, her voice, all of it is so unfamiliar to him—yet she somehow knows him. His eyes scan over her face, as if maybe he searched hard enough that he might yet find the answer.]

...Pray forgive me, but scant can I recall our meeting...

[He brings a hand to his chin as he strains his mind further, closing his eyes as he tries to remember, despite already figuring it a hopeless endeavor.]

It would seem since arriving here my memories have suffered so... I do apologize for what distress their frailty may be causing you.

[ Ronan's expression is a worry. He doesn't like this. He doesn't trust this place in the way that he trusts Cabeswater, that much is obvious. That sends a prickle of anxiety down Gansey's spine. Adam and Ronan had both trusted Cabeswater, had both believed it wouldn't do them harm. Gansey's faith in that place had grown imperfect, and wary. At the same time, his friends' attachment had gotten stronger.

There's none of that faith here. Four months, they'd been here, and it's not on Ronan's side.

What has happened to him here? What has happened to all of them? Why can't Gansey remember? How can he help them if he can't remember?

Wary, he leans back. He can't let his face reflect that anxiety. If he wants to reassure Ronan, he needs to look assured in the first place. That would be a lot easier if he didn't have such a significant portion of this world's topsoil all over him. He works on keeping his voice even, despite not achieving the lightness he would like. They have enough to worry about. They don't need to worry about him too. ]

I was underground. Woke up there. Don't ask me how I got that way, since I'm helpfully lacking that memory, too. Adam found me.

[ After hours in the dark. If Gansey doesn't talk about it, he won't have to think about it. ]

Then I ran into a number of those demon cats, which, I've been informed, are not actually demons. I found that out from a griffin who could talk. And was a wizard.

[ He leans his head back. Somewhere here, a smile is fighting him. Maybe he's in shock.

Or maybe it's because he hasn't felt anything close to safe, until now. ]

I feel like we've fallen into Narnia. Did I make notes when I was here before? Keep a journal, anything.

R A G E

[ if his superior could see him now, he'd be so disappointed. drüskelle were a holy order, meant to embody the fjerdan's ideal of integrity and righteousness...

not, as the case may be, engaging in petty street fights with random strangers. and for the most ridiculous reasons, at that.

but matthias couldn't really help himself. he certainly hadn't meant to let things escalate as they had, but it was one thing after the other — a slammed finger against a door jamb, a spilled tea across his lap, misdirection from a stranger that led to an hour of travel wasted. the final straw to break the proverbial camel's back? the nostalgia of nina, a past love and a current hate, the enemy he grew to trust... only for her to betray him in the worst possible moment.

he has, to say the least, a lot of feelings when it comes to nina zenik. many of them violent. ]

Stop, [ he seethes one more time, the worst pushed out between grit teeth, his hand curled firmly around the other person's throat. he's rather large for a young man of eighteen — bulky and scarred from a year's worth of prison fights, yet none of that had chipped away at the precision and skill bred into him as fjerda's organizations of witchhunters.

the reason for all this? it could have been anything to remind him: long brown, wavy locks; bright green eyes; soft, pale skin; obscene curves; the smell of sweets; even just the way she'd smile like she knew how much it affected him; a teasing word or two; or the way she always somehow managed to get right under his skin in a way that he loved and hated.

whatever it was, he needed it to end, and now. ]

C Y O A

[ i'm also open to do any of the other options as well! feel free to PM me or comment here to work something out. c: ]

[ Sera knows that she should be pleased right now. She should be, and she wants to be, but this stupid anger won't let go so she scowls very, very hard and very, very fiercely. ]

Well I won't be frigging glad to see them, will I? Should've known you'd be here. Anytime it's weird, it's because of us. You. People. Inquisition people. Whatever.

[ She wants to punch something. Why? She can't explain it. Luckily it's an impulse she can control, though, so she settles for balling her fists up at her sides instead. ]

It was supposed to be over with Corephecus gone. Well this isn't bloody over, is it?

[ The answer is no, there isn't.

But Sera isn't at a point in her ridiculous, unmerited anger where she's ready to concede and admit that she's in the wrong. So instead, she says: ]

Yeah. Your arse in my bloody way.

[Noah nods as he sniffles, even if Firo can't see it. He's trying to stay calm. He is trying. Every single second feels like forever, and Noah has to wonder if this is why he's the only ghost back home - if all the others got stuck with their bodies, just... laying there, for an eternity, underground. If that could have been him.

The groan of the wood as it starts to separate from the shovel wedged between the pieces startles him and at first he scoots as far as he can away from the sound before he realizes what it is. Slow, sure, but working. He moves closer to that side again, bracing himself against the bottom of the coffin to push up against the lid as hard as he can with his shoulder to help it along.]

[Distressed? A bit but so was every other situation she found herself in and even then she pressed on how matter how much it hurt. Was he not hurting as well? She may not be able to make him regain what is lost to him but she can try and put gentle reminders that they did know each other.]

It's alright, you have no fault in what happened.

[As for her, she tries to put on a small smile for him. She'll be okay!]

Besides, you told me before that a smile better suits someone like me.

[Oh she remembers what exactly was said at the Vault but that might be too much for him. Probably.]

[Okay, you know what? You, strange woman, can deal with it. Maketh feels her mouth curling into a sneer.] Oh. I see. So you're going to be a child about this.

[She points to the ground five inches to her left.] Look. A path. Miraculous.

I wouldn't trust meat from this place anyway. There's no grass here. Where would they even get any, those cougar things?

[Emily crosses to what she thinks could be a fridge and pulls it open. Nothing.] What the hell happened here? [And how the fuck is she supposed to ... get home, or whatever? Not back to the lodge, but home, with her comfy bed and walk-in closet and her boyfriend and her car and the life she's got waiting for her, goddamnit.

She shuts the refrigerator and starts pulling open drawers until she finds a can opener, which she holds out to Sanji.]

["Too much," is the answer to that question, and Effie doesn't even realize it. Or rather, if she does, she pretends not to. It's worked so far, right?

She is extremely impressed with your trick, Cashmere! And excuse you, she knows how to handle a knife. If nothing else, table manners have taught her which end to grab.

And she does so daintily, smiling the entire time.] Thank you, Cashmere! How very generous of you.

[Your escort would be proud.]

Where do you suggest I go from here?

Too gamey, I'll bet. [sigh] Not that beggars can be choosers. If this place has gone to shit and all we can do is survive, it'll have to be cougar-meat or nothing.

[Oh, hey, can opener. Sweet.] Ah, thank you, Miss Emily! Let's pry open a lid and see what this is.

[a quick flick of his wrist and the can is open. It just looks like glop, nothing identifiable, so Sanji sniffs it and then dips the tip of his pinky finger into it taste it. Hmm.]

Seems like...soup. Maybe mushroom. Ugh, real salty, though.

[ Koltira's been looking for signs of life. Or, more precisely, listening: coordinates in hand, he strides into the designated area, his ears perked forward. If there's a heartbeat to be had beneath the silent earth, he'll know. For the first few minutes, there's nothing but the sound of his own boots, kicking aside small rocks, disturbing soil. Then, he hears more than a pulse; he hears frantic, forceful movement. Hurrying towards it, he arrives just as Bucky pushes himself up to the surface.

He has to admit, it's a pretty impressive feat. ]

Hmm. Well done.

[ Koltira's not particularly amused by the sudden choking attempt (first of all, that's his thing). He stares at Matthias, nonplussed, and grabs the boy by his wrist. His touch is burning ice, his fingers limned with unnatural blue. ]

Let go.

[Ew. Emily wrinkles her nose at the sight of Sanji trying out the stuff in the can. It must be so bad for you, but he's right, beggars can't be choosers.]

Well, heat it up.

[She goes to what looks like the sink, only it doesn't have any knobs or buttons. Must be touch-activated or motion-sensing. She waves a hand over the spout, but nothing happens, so she taps what she thinks should be the cold water side.]

Fuck yeah. Now we've just got to boil it. [And she starts looking for a pot to do that in while Sanji finds and fiddles with the stove.]

[Poor girl probably doesn't know good food, but Sanji is determined not to let her down.]

This is going to be absolutely awful. I'll be a failure as a cook if I can't spruce it up a little. Argh, isn't there anything in here that'll pass for spices?

[He sets the can aside until she can find a pot, and first wastes a bit of time hunting through the pantry for anything that looks or smells like a spice. Flour? Sugar, even? He taste-tests a few more things, makes some spectacular faces at how nasty some of them are, and finally comes out with an armful of small jars.]

Evaporated milk, some kind of pepper, and I think this one's pickled fish. I can work with this.

[now to push buttons on some of the bits with flat top surfaces and hope he doesn't singe his curly eyebrows off]

[Excuse you, weird eyebrows guy, rich girl knows great food.

She finds a small cache of pots while he's rooting through the pantry, sets one next to the thing he's poking around at, and starts to fill another with water. She doubts there's a water processing plant here, so best to boil out all the shit out of it.]

Whatever, as long as we don't starve.

[Starving is bad. Starving ... leads to terrible things. She shudders a little. She does not miss the lodge right now.]

[he will take great delight in impressing her palate later, then, when real food can be had.

Sanji abruptly stops poking and just holds his hand over the surface to see if it's heating, but his voice goes strangely solemn as he responds.]

You won't starve. I promise. I would rather die than let anyone starve.

[he takes a deep drag off the cigarette, straightens up, and moves the pots over to where he's sure he felt something heating up. Soup goes in one, and he gestures to the pot of water to silently compliment her smarts. Yes, boil the water, it's safer that way.]

I can't promise it'll be my best, but it'll fill us up for a full day of exploring.

[The soldier glares up at the creature, his expression clearly a scowl though a mask covers half his face. He sits up and looks the man over, his brow furrowed as he takes him in.

The ears and the eyes and the color of his skin are certainly odd, but who knows, that sort of thing could be the norm here. He doesn't know. He doesn't know anything about this place.]

Did you do this?

[That's really the most important question. He doubts the creature would admit it if it was him, but it's worth the attempt.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 12 of 20

TEST DRIVE MEME #5

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

matthias helvar | six of crows

no subject

oh dear

no subject

no subject

it's my duty as a writer to make my characters suffer

no subject

no subject

no subject

two

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject