TEST DRIVE MEME #5

[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 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?]

Comments

[quaerit]

[ Ronan is not fine. He’s hurt, he’s limping -

Christ, they need to get inside. Gansey tears his eyes away from both his friend and the cat, and concentrates on the door. His fingers are already bloodied, and they slide over roughly hewn stone before they find purchase. Then the door struggles to move, as though it hasn’t been opened in years.

Gansey is not inexperienced with that. He pulls until he has enough of a gap to put his shoulder against it, and starts heaving it back. ]

Help me! Just a little more –

[ And then it gives, at least enough for them to get through. Gansey dives inside and holds it for Ronan, keeping it open. The doors will prove no more helpful in the other direction, but at least when they slam shut, he’ll know they’re safe. Providing this is the only door.

His eyes flick back over Ronan, at last. ]

Your leg, how bad is it?

[greywaren]

[Ronan swears loudly as Gansey tries to shove at the door and he crashes against it in turn, adding what strength he has before they can finally get the damn thing open. It's a rush of movement to get inside, to slam the door shut again, to hear the cat hissing angrily from the other side. He listens against the wood, but after things quiet down, it's impossible to tell whether or not it's still out there. They can explore this place or wait for as long as they can bear, but sooner or later they'll probably have to take their chances with leaving.

The monster probably wouldn't wait that long, though.

Feeling is starting to return to more of Ronan's limbs, and he looks toward Gansey at the question, though it's obvious that he has no intention of answering it. He's quiet for a moment too long, staring, as if any second now, Gansey would dissolve into pieces and reveal that it hadn't been him at all.

It's what he's expecting, anyway. He's not dreaming, he doesn't dream about lightning cats or this fucking cave, he knows he's in reality, but at the same time-]

How long have you been here?

[The blood on Gansey's hands hasn't escaped his notice, nor has the general dirt and grime on his normally-immaculate appearance. He feels, at once, an immense wave of guilt for somehow not knowing that their king had returned, for not rushing to him immediately and helping him earlier. It seems stupid now, but some childish part of him had assumed that the knowledge of Gansey's presence would have been instinct, an awareness that transcends a simple flesh and blood friendship. He's startled to find that he was wrong.]

[quaerit]

[ Gansey remains concerned with the cat lurking outside, while Ronan quickly becomes concerned with Gansey. Gansey can see the shift, can feel the exact moment when it happens.

And Ronan didn't answer that question.

Under that scrutiny, he's aware all over again of the way he looks. That's a thing he ordinarily cares least about around Ronan, but in this case it's a very particular concern. His friend's worry is like a living, breathing thing, and his instinct is to soothe it. He knows the dirt he's covered in will do little for that.

Determined to try his best anyway, he pushes away from the door. ]

Hours, at most. I've seen Adam, and Noah.

[ His words are careful. He doesn't know how Ronan will take this next part, but he has to say it. He has to get it out of the way, before the intensity of that stare does away with him. Gansey takes a breath. ]

Ronan, I don't remember being here. They told me that I was. Four months here, four somewhere else. [ His shoulders lift and his head shakes, helpless. ] I've been trying. I'm sorry.

[greywaren]

[He doesn't know what to do with that information, or how to really even begin processing it. Not only did both Adam and Noah know about Gansey's return before Ronan did, but Gansey doesn't remember anything- anything since they first left home. It doesn't make sense.

Ronan remembers in a rush, dreaming about Gansey shortly after he left. His body had dissolved into needle-sharp wasps that he'd taken out of the dream. But he wouldn't take out Gansey- the wasps were there because he, in some desperate way, wanted just a piece of him, but he wouldn't let himself take the whole thing. He couldn't have.

Even a Gansey from his dreams, he thinks, would have remembered the past few months.]

Don't apologize.

[It's steadfast, firm. Ronan messes with the door a little further, ensures that it's properly closed and locked, before moving to one of the- pews? He supposes that's what they are. He lowers himself into it and leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, while he tries to reason through why Gansey wouldn't remember anything.]

So you were with us, in Henrietta? Just a few hours ago? [It doesn't make sense, but what part of this has made any sense? Gods and horrific monsters, multiple universes, multiple worlds? Of course Gansey wouldn't remember. Of course nothing that they did- the discussions, the fights, the things they learned, the things they spoke about- of course none of that meant anything.]

[quaerit]

[ Gansey watches Ronan. He looks as though he’s taking it well, but Gansey also knows him. Ronan’s heart is not worn on his sleeve, unless he’s angry about it. That makes people think Ronan is angry all the time. Gansey doesn’t agree. He knew the Ronan from before, and knows he’s still in there somewhere. This is not anger. This is something else.

He goes to the pew and sits down, and as soon as he does he wonders how he was standing. Between his ordeal in the grave and that cat thing’s magic, there are few parts of his body that aren’t aching. He wants to stay right here. Better yet, he wants to lie down and get his head together. Fighting that urge, he takes a breath, makes himself concentrate. ]

I was. Or, perhaps I will be. This may be nothing to worry about at all.

[ Translation: Gansey will worry about it. No one else needs to. It’s already obvious that his friends have been through enough without worrying about him, too. ]

We know that time is not so linear as it seems. We’re dealing with magic, here, with portals and alternate worlds. More than one of them. Maybe I don’t remember being here because it hasn’t happened yet, like when we found your note about Cabeswater speaking Latin.

[ Possible. Not the only possibility, but still one of them. He leans forward. ]

This could all be a larger instance of the same thing. We’re together now. That’s what matters, isn’t it?

[greywaren]

[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.]

[quaerit]

[ 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.

[greywaren]

[All at once the flood of guilt returns when he realizes just what had happened and what he hadn't been there to fix. Gansey, like Adam, was buried. Except- perhaps unlike Adam, he didn't have the ability to reach out to his friends, to tell anyone that he was there, and so Ronan didn't know, and so Ronan didn't try to dig him up. It had all been Adam.

Gansey eases past the subject, and Ronan wants to focus on it but he knows better than to force an uncomfortable topic, especially so soon after finding him again. His chest feels tight in the wake of it, but he brings himself to focus on the change of subject, managing a short nod when he's asked about Gansey's journals.]

You were mapping the place out, [he murmurs, twisting anxiously at the leather bands around his wrists. His voice is nonchalant, even if his posture is tighter than it should be. The action causes the bandages on his hands to pull uncomfortably, so he does it harder, his mouth pursed in a thoughtful frown.]

I don't think you kept a diary or anything, but some stuff. I don't know if it's still there. [Ronan shrugs.] I haven't gone through your room.

[Not that the place was off limits or that he hadn't thought about looking through it. As far as Ronan knows- and he's mistaken about this, of course- nobody has opened Gansey's door since the fruitless search for him right after his disappearance. It's best to keep it that way, he thinks. Frozen in just the way that Gansey left it, too sacred to go tearing through.

On the other hand-]

...wait, a fucking griffin? You're joking.

[Someone hadn't paid much attention to what Gansey had actually been saying until now.]

[quaerit]

[ Mapping. The thought makes Gansey smile, since that was essentially what he'd been trying to do when that cat found him. He'd been trying to get to know his territory, and commit it to memory. If he was doing that before, he must have written it down somewhere. If not in a journal, then something else. Adam is likely to know. Gansey makes a note to talk to him about it. Maybe that was one of the things he'd found in Gansey's room.

Leaning back, he finds himself smiling. There's the Ronan he knows. ]

Not even a little bit. You should have seen it. Massive wings, talking to me through an eagle's beak. That's what I thought it was, and then I saw the rest, and he called himself a griffin. Can you imagine? It's like something from a story.

[ And of course, there's a quality to Gansey's voice that sounds almost awed. This is a new kind of magic, something that genuinely fascinates him. ]

[greywaren]

[Gansey says 'like something from a story' and Ronan thinks 'like something from a dream'. Of course, griffins aren't the usual fare, even for him, but for a creature like that to exist in reality, he thinks that someone had to have created it. Maybe not necessarily the way that he creates things, but it isn't natural by a long shot.]

I can imagine.

[He'd like to say that there are more important things than mythical creatures that apparently conversed with Gansey, but right now, Ronan doesn't think there is anything quite so pressing. Gansey is here, everything else can be put on hold for whatever the fuck he wants to talk about.

Plus, it's reassuring in some strange way, just to hear him speak with that engaged fervor of his, excited and intrigued by the mysteries of the world. Ronan missed that, more than he'd ever really admit.]

I've met a few crazies here, but no mythical creatures like that, [says Ronan, still blissfully unaware that he literally punched (and was subsequently punched by) the Grendel.] I can tell you about them, if you want.

[quaerit]

[ This is no small part of the reason why Gansey is so fascinated by Ronan's power. He can make things live when they wouldn't even exist. He can make impossible things real.

Of course, this is one situation where Gansey would have preferred the impossible to remain a dream. Getting caught up by an interdimensional Door had hardly been part of his plans.

Talking to Ronan helps, like it always does. He could use a clearer head, and he could use the sort of focus that comes from talking out the strangeness with his friends. ]

Crazies, indeed. Yes, tell me. I want to hear everything, including whatever trouble you've been in.

[ Note that he does not ask whether there has been trouble. This is Ronan Lynch. There's been trouble. ]

[greywaren]

[Ronan is tempted to feign offense at Gansey's assumption that he's been in trouble, but Gansey knows him well enough by now that anything he could pretend to say in his own defense would just be laughed off.

So instead he mulls over the request, unable to really tell him everything, but wanting to at least make sure that he can remember all of the necessary information.]

...if you don't know someone, assume they're not human, [is probably the best- and most frightening- advice that he can give right now. But between Gren and Nick and Sharon and the Demon and Bruce and everyone else that he's tried to punch since getting here, everything has turned out to be decidedly monstrous in some form or another.]

And assume they can hit harder than you.

[Not that that's stopped him. Really, it's a miracle that Ronan hasn't died yet.]

[quaerit]

[ Assume they're not human.

After what Gansey saw outside, that's not even a very surprising thing to say. It still twists something inside him, though. He'll later identify that as anxiety, and be annoyed with himself. For now, he's too caught up in the fact that there's still blood and bandages on his hands, and he looks like something the grave spat out.

That doesn't stop him from giving Ronan a crooked little smile. ]

The last time I hit anyone, I broke my thumb. It's not impressive to hit harder than me.

[ He gets it, though. There's danger all around and not everyone is nice.

He definitely gets it. ]

Can they hit harder than you? That's the important thing here.