dankmemes | TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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!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?]

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I don't know how deep you are.

[Kit isn't into pretending things are better than they are. Unless by 'things' you mean 'his plans', and this doesn't qualify. It's just the obvious task.]

Tell me what you remember from before this.

[nick if you keep mentioning gods cliff is going to wind up rolling his eyes hard that he strains something. please stop, for his sake.

he gives nick's hand a slightly dubious look, but doesn't seem to be in any hurry to ask him what he is again, so there's that at least.] I don't even have my own phone, let alone some sketchy god's creepy gift. [another extremely put upon sigh.]

Fine, just show me where the people are and I'll help you dig. The sooner we can get this shit over with the better.

[Noah gives a small rueful smile at the compliment. Gansey's probably the only person to say that, because he doesn't know how Noah's had to work twice as hard to get 'won't accidentally stab himself (probably)' levels of acceptable. Rook would surely grouse in frustration, but he isn't here.]

That's a new thing. I had someone teach me.

[Speaking of, he wipes the knife off on his pants and puts it back into a sheath he's got for it on his belt before he does make an idiot of himself and loses it or stabs himself.]

I mostly forget I have it, honestly. This is only like... the third time I've used it.

It's good to see you.

[That is also easily the Understatement of the Century. It is good to see Gansey the way it is must have been good to see dry land after forty days and nights of rain. It's good to see Gansey the way it's good to see the first patches of green showing back up after a forest fire.]

[It's cool, Cliff. If you strain something from all that eye-rolling and die, the grave is still right there.]

Nice to have you aboard, kid.

[He stoops by the pile of dirt that used to be sitting atop Cliff's coffin, producing a second shovel from behind it. He came prepared for whomever he rescued to join in the effort. He offers it to Cliff, and after leaning his own shovel on his shoulder, offers a handshake as well. (And yes, it's with the robot hand.)]

The name's Nick Valentine. You don't have a phone, but I'm assuming you have a name.

I wanted to kill the one I was already killing. You always a kill stealing asshole?

[He stays where is, summoning a baseball bat in his hand and flipping it a few times. He's ready in case he needs to bash this guys skull in. Just being prepared is all.]

[hahaaaaa nick, you're hilarious.

clifford gives nick's proffered hand a flat eyed stare that's made all the more intense by the unique shine of his eyes, and makes no move to even pull his hands from his pockets, let alone shake his hand.

it's not you, it's him, blah blah blah, you know the drill.]

Clifford. [and then he does pull one hand out from his hoodie pocket, only to wave it dismissively between the two of them. ]

Keep the shovel for someone who needs it. [he tells nick in a deceptively bored tone, before turning into a huge fucking wolf and looking up at nick expectantly.]

[He looks between the monster and Hannah, torn - he wants to protect her, he has to after failing so utterly and completely before. But he also doesn't want to make her go off on her own when there might be more out there, and he doesn't want her to linger here.

It's all too much to spend time worrying over. He makes a split second decision and grabs her hand, turning to run.]

Up ahead, there's an alley. Maybe it won't be able to follow us!

[It's about the best he can do for now. If he could find a weapon, or somewhere safe - something, anything - they'd be better off. But for now, running is all he can do.]

[While he doesn't jump out of his skin, Nick is certainly startled by the sudden appearance of a wolf at his side.]

Shit!

[He steps back, shaking his head.]

I knew there was something odd about you -- the claw marks in the coffin, the eyes. I was thinking maybe a synth, or hell, maybe some kind of premature super mutant. I guess this is as good an explanation as any.

[He's pretty collected, all things considered, but he is an oddity himself. He should expect to meet more in a place like this.]

Edited 2016-01-23 07:20 (UTC)

[cliff gives the distinct impression of a wolf narrowing his eyes up at nick and letting out a low, warning growl.

he doesn't know what the hell a synth or a "premature super mutant" but he's pretty sure he doesn't like the sound of it. and he definitely doesn't need some half metal dickweed bringing up his eyes like he even has a foot to stand on.]

Like you can call anyone odd, asshole.

[That spunk actually gets a laugh out of Nick.]

Heh. Fair enough. Considering you're a giant dog and we've got a hell of a lot of digging to do, I'd say this is a convenient coincidence. This way.

[He tucks the second shovel under his arm and starts heading north.]

[you know, if not touching cliff meant that he wasn't being buried alive, oscar would easily choose that. he's a nice guy like that, really.

but honestly, hearing his angry teenage buddy ol' pal complaining like his usual self? that's a relief. there's still a lingering, concerned knit to his brow about how hard cliff's breathing, about the remnants of evidence that he nearly suffocated, but... he's okay. and oscar's shoulders sag, just a little bit, some of the tension slipping away. the glare rolls off of him like water.

he manages a weak, shaky smile because what else can he do?]

If that's the worst damage done, I'll take it. [worms are nutritious, most likely.] I don't guess you've got any clue how you ended up in in a grave?

Edited 2016-01-23 13:47 (UTC)

That sounds an awful lot like a personal problem. [ Sharon quickly snaps back, all sharp teenage edge. She picks up a strange colored fruit off the market stand nearest her, and turns to him, a sneer on her features, almost taunting. ]

If you don't like me here, maybe you should just go away.

one
[Well, she’s not dead, so that’s promising, but—my, that’s a very big cat. Maketh holds herself very, very still, hands out at her side. Not for the first time, she wishes that she carried a weapon instead of relying on storm troopers to back her up. So unreliable. It leads to situations like this.]

All right, creature…

[Can it understand her? Probably not. But it’s worth a shot.]

two

[At first there’s some confusion about the lack of fire. Maketh spreads her hands out, hits the corner of the box. Wood, no ash at all. The texture catches under her nails. Not the metal hull of a shuttle, rebel or otherwise. She takes a shuddering breath. Focus. Concentrate. Just like that.

She’s not dead. But she’s in a tight, dark space, and she can hear dirt shifting above her.

Oh, maker. ]

Please….please let me out….

[Her voice is small. She’s very deliberately not crying]

I’ll be good, I swear it!

[clifford already misses the days back when oscar was impressed or intimidated by him and would very much like to go back to them if it's alright.

(the fact that cliff can't actually remember when that might have been isn't of any consequence, really. the point is that it must have been true at some point and he misses it. metaphorically speaking anyway.)]

If that's what you think I bet I can find a couple of worms for you to eat.

[cliff says sourly, pushes himself up onto his elbows and spits on the ground next to oscar's foot in an effort to rid his mouth of some of the taste.]

I don't fucking know, I was going to ask you since this kind of stupid shit is always your fault.

[Romulus isn't afraid of many things. To say that he's afraid of small spaces would even be an oversimplification. He isn't afraid of them and he's not afraid now, but he's uncomfortable. He's capable of a great many things, and while he's used to feeling powerful, being stripped of that power doesn't bother him as much as the confinement does. He still has his firearm, strapped against his leg, but he's sure that it would do more harm than good in here.

It would seem that there's nothing for him to do but wait, see if he's rescued. He manages calm for the rest of his time spent underground, though the unease and thought of death wears at the edges of his thoughts. If he isn't saved, then he'll die- from starvation or thirst, if nothing else.

Still, the situation offers a small release from his personal responsibility. Rome is nothing if he's not a brutal realist, and the idea that he can do nothing is a strangely comforting one. He'll be rescued, or he'll die. Those are the only outcomes.

The knock startles him from his hours of stillness, and he tilts his head up, trying to listen for her words, muffled as they are through the wood. In response, he knocks against the wood from his own side, the urge to move overwhelming him.

A rescue, rather than a death. He can't say he's not grateful for that, at least.]

I'm here! I'm alive- please, hurry!

[It's the desperation in his hoarse words that surprises him more than anything. Maybe this captivity had been worse than he thought.]

1
[He was never particularly fond of cats.

Rome moves quickly, using a hand to leap over a small pile of rubble as he's pursued by two of the coeurls. He's traveling just a little too fast, his movements just a little too fluid to be entirely human, but it hardly matters when he's on the run.

He's wearing a foreign military uniform in shades of brown and a leather band around his throat, which should all be defining enough if you wanted to take a mental note to find him later. Regardless, Rome scampers up another pile of debris as the cats move after him, turning a corner quickly and drawing his pistol from his thigh holster.

He spins, sets one knee on the ground, aims, and waits. The moment the first cat rounds the corner, he fires off three echoing shots and drops the creature dead on the spot. The second yowls in response, letting loose a jet of frozen air that's enough to take Rome by surprise, patterns of ice freezing over the gun in his hand, frost clinging to his hair.]

Oh.

[Not great. He can probably turn and run again, but then he'll just have to face it again eventually. With a low growl, Rome holsters his weapon again, shaking the ice from his hair as the coeurl begins to circle him.

Some assistance might be appreciated.]

2
[It's heavy work, digging up a coffin. Rome can go longer than most people, but he isn't absolutely tireless. The light in the city is artificial, but even that seems to be growing more dim as the hours stretch on, as if to simulate a day cycle- something that would be more interesting to him, if he wasn't in the process of trying to save a life.

He's a few feet down when his shovel hits the coffin through the last few inches of dirt, and Rome pauses, setting it aside for a moment so he can lower himself to one knee and tilt his head to listen for any activity.]

Can you hear me? [He asks loudly, grabbing the shovel with one hand and thumping on the lid of the coffin again, through the dirt.]

Yell if you can hear me! I've got you!

[he is kind of impressed. clifford is always, surprisingly, sturdy. it's probably not normal for a teenager to be able to bounce back so easily from a near death experience. it's hard to be intimidated with how filthy he is, though.

cliff really does need a bath, honestly.]

You wouldn't do that to the guy trying to help you.

[mostly because oscar has learned that clifford tries really hard to act like he doesn't like him. it's just kind of a give away that he must like him to some as much as he comes over.]

You're a mess. [oscar points out, wanting to flick away dirt hanging out in cliff's hair. he sighs.] I'll take blame for a couple times, but I've got nothing this time.

[ if rome is listening for activity, he's definitely going to hear it.

it's not that morgan has ever been particularly claustrophobic. he's typically pretty unfazed about things like graveyards and coffins. all part of life, right? (or, well- death, but. semantics.) honestly, the problem both begins and ends with the fact that he's trapped inside this fucking coffin, and he's already scratched his fingers raw and bloody in an attempt to get out.

but there's no light. there's no leverage, not with his arms pinned to the sides like they are. he's hot, starting to overheat, positive that he's running out of air, and then he hears- ]

Yes! Fucking yes, I'm down here, let me the fuck out!

Try me. [cliff grumbles lowly as he climbs to his feet, beating ineffectually at his clothes in an attempt to clear some of the dirt before swiping a hand through his hair ever so slightly self-consciously in response to oscar's observation.

he doesn't make any move to introduce oscar's face to the ground as well though, despite his words.

and okay, so maybe the thing with the asshole werewolves had sort of been his fault, but literally every other single mess they've been caught in up til now had been entirely on oscar so it's not completely unfair that cliff can't help but blame him for this shit now.

yet cliff still comes back everytime, clearly he's got his own self-defeating issues to work through here. or maybe it was stockholm syndrome.]

Are we even in Podunk anymore? [because they're freaking underground right now, what the fuck? and none of this shit is looking familiar to him but oscar had gone on that whole alice down the rabbit hole trip when they'd split off that one time so maybe he recognized something.]

Unless the skins are worth something or you have a way to store the meat, I say leave 'em.

[Pandoran practicality, really. if you couldn't sell it, eat it, or use it to shoot, what was the point?]

Where is this place, anyway? The map's coming up blank. Could just be failing on me, but...

[Rhys isn't quite sure what's going on. The bandit- er, Lilith- throws a grenade and everything seems to go bright with purple explosives and loud, crackly sounds. It doesn't quite stop, and he's really not sure whether or not the grenade has actually gone off yet- but then, Lilith just walks out of the freaking air and hooks an arm around him.

So he's on the ground. Hitting the dirt, as it were. His head slams a little unpleasantly against the rock and he blinks out the daze from his eyes.

'Oh, who is this hotshot?'

And now there's that. But there's the grenade, and Rhys tries to blink the light from his eyes, while Jack merely lifts a hand to cover his face in the wake of it, not physically blown back at all, while both of the actual human beings wind up sprawled akimbo while chunks of coeurl meat fly through the air.

Gross.

Rhys slowly sits up, pressing his robotic hand against his forehead as he tries to clear the daze. He glances over toward Lilith, curious to see the state she's in. Like... she did just save his life, but it only really needed saving because he saved her life first. So it's kind of okay if she dies here? Maybe.

'Is that- ? Ohho man, you've got to be kidding me. Are you serious right now? Is that Lilith?']

...are you okay?

[He's going to ignore Jack for now. Probably for the best, all things considered.]

[Finding only quiet response sends a jolt of panic through him. But he quickly picks up on her heartbeat, she's still alive. Good.

Before long fingertips hits wood. He scrambles to clear a large enough area before his fingers find purchase on the wood. It comes away easy in his hands although some of the surrounding dirt slips into the new hole.]

Crap, sorry.

[He makes the hole a little bigger, all while trying to keep more dirt from falling in, before reaching for her.]

[Cy had been doing his best to remain calm, trying to determine a way out on his own when the sound of someone digging catching his interest. And then there's the clang of metal against the wood above him.

Right over his face. That doesn't sound exactly safe.

He shifts, hoping to avoid being hit in the face by the shovel.]

If you hit me I get to return the favor. [He shouts.]

[peter is not a hero. he can't fight, really. in fact, he's in the middle of getting the everloving hell out of there when he feels it, deep in his gut.

wolf.

shit. he skids to a stop. doesn't even have a weapon on him, except...

peter takes off his coat, pulls off his shirt, and cracks his neck. if neither man nor beast are paying him any attention right now, maybe he can make the change before either notices.]

[oscar isn't going to "try him" instead he follows him to his feet and, threats or not, still keeps an eye on cliff, ready to catch or steady him. cliff is as resilient as ever. that's the thing, every mess that they've been in, they've gotten out. together.

and oscar remembers very clearly when he was surrounded by wolves, cliff gave him a way out. when they were in a ghostly tornado in a hospital room, cliff grabbed him... so oscar doesn't take it personal when he gripes, because cliff would always invite himself in through a window the next day anyway. there was that one time he text cliff, but really, it wasn't like he meant to drag him into danger...

but other than one gentle ghost, cliff was the only person that oscar could turn to. the whole thing where he turned into a huge red wolf helped make him his go-to partner in crime for all things supernatural.

this time, oscar couldn't think of how it was his fault. or cliff's, for that matter. he'd gotten a small text that explained something, but he was having a hard time believing it.]

No, uh... Not Podunk. It's Hadriel, I think that's what it's called. [and hadriel wasn't some weird underground city if he was going to believe the text he got. but he is going to share it. he pulls out the phone from a pocket, pulling up the... helpful text he'd found.] It sounds crazy...

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Page 5 of 20

TEST DRIVE MEME #5

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WORK SUCKS aka why you just getting this tag....

Rage

Maketh Tua | Star Wars: Rebels |

no worries I've been tagging very slowly on my phone this whole time

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Romulus Hart | Original

i wish i could...

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i wish i didn't have to tbh

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you're fine! AS YOU CAN SEE i'm kind of slow rn >>

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i'm just glad when it's quiet enough I can, because uuugh 12hr shifts...