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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[fear #1 - not a cat person]

[This is a very well-buit simulation of what it's like to be in an arena as a tribute. She feels isolated and uncomfortable, there are a lot of strangers nearby, and she just knows there are mutts out there, prowling. Why, she thinks she sees the dim light reflected back at her from a pair of eyes!

She's not sure how she got here, of course, but she supposes it's a new layer of escort training -- to try and get her to understand a little better how the tributes will feel once they've left her care.

Standing, she brushes off her skirt (this floor is filthy!) and heads to the person nearest her.]

What an impressive place! Do you think they'll let us out soon? I'd like to wash my hands and get back to work. I'm so busy, you see, planning my first Victory Tour!

[fear #2 - but a dream?]

[This is just a terrible dream. She's going to wake up soon.

Soon.

Soon.

...right?]

Oh goodness--! C-Can anyone hear me?

[When no one responds, her eyes fill with tears. She's not religious, but suddenly she finds herself praying for rescue.]

[rage - how rude!]

Why is everyone here so rude! [she says to no one in particular.]

Really. They could at least smile when you say hello!

[Manners are serious business.]

Scenario one

[The cat leaps from the rooftop and lands right in front of him just as Firo has the tingling feeling of something watching him. His hand immediately goes for his knife--or where it should be. His prison jumpsuit lacks the sheath that should be holding the weapon, and of course he didn't have it when he left Alcatraz. He curses; this thing is obviously spoiling for a fight, and Firo's not sure how much of one he's going to be able to give to a creature like this.]

What the hell are you, huh? I normally don't make it a habit to fight with a kitty cat, so--

[The thing jumps straight forward. Firo throws himself backwards, rewarded for his efforts with a deep graze on his arm. At least his head didn't get taken off, but he's not feeling very grateful now.]

Damn it...

[But the injury doesn't last for long. A few seconds after it starts bleeding, everything reverses. Blood droplets wriggle back in and the skin seals up.]

Scenario two

[Firo isn't one of those gangsters who's accustomed to burying his own dead--they have other people for that, and he's not the type to go that far anyway. He's certainly not used to un-burying a body either. But try he will, for the sake of whatever poor sap is stuck under the coordinates he got.

He sighs and rests his hands on his knees, taking a short break now that the coffin is clear. Eyeing the surface, he then pokes it rather harshly with the shovel. Good morning, sunshine.]

Whoever you are, you better still be alive in there!

[There's a voice, the warn-spell sounding as though someone were speaking just over her shoulder, not from the communicator, because that would require doing something with his talons other than digging.]

I can hear you.

[Kit sounds kind of like a double-bass parrot, scratchy in the same way. His voice doesn't really do gentle, but he's trying.]

here kitty kitty;

[ Linda isn't as scared of the weird giant cat as she probably should be. In fact, she's not scared of it at all despite the fact that it's baring its teeth and seems to be growling. ]

Awwww, look at you! You with your little fancy whiskers. Are you a peacock? Huh? Are you a little Vegas showgirl with your peacock whiskers?

[ She's suddenly hit with her most beautiful artistic vision yet: a strip show composed entirely of cats, with this little sucker as the main girl. The cat doesn't seem entirely friendly (re: growling, teeth) but that can be fixed. The way to anyone's heart is through food and it just so happens that Linda was in the middle of making a tuna salad before she was brought here and has been toting around a can of tuna ever since.

She pulls it out of her pocket. Finally, little tuna's time to shine.

Except... ]

Dammit, Bob. I told you to get the pop tops,

[ She mutters as she tries in vain to pry the can open. When that (predictably) fails she does the only thing she knows to do. She yells: ]

Hey, anybody got a can opener? I need a can opener over here!

one;
(feel free to tag in with another prompt too btw!!)

[who's got two thumbs and a submachine gun that sets stuff on fire????]

Kittens, really? Is that the best you got?! [yep. this chick.]

[after weeks and weeks of enduring the hellish pandoran landscape and the planet's equally hellish wildlife, this is nothing. she's handling the pack of coeurls on her tail with barely a second thought. which is, really, a mistake. there's no sound more ominous than the empty click of her incendiary gun as it runs out of ammo-- and with her frenetic momentum interrupted, there's still two of the beasts left. they slink forward, snarling and teeth bared. big shocker: they're less than pleased about their buds getting torched, and lilith is a meaty little human appetizer.]

Shit. [her eyes don't leave the two coeurls as she carefully walks backwards, slowly (but purposefully) digging through her pack for whatever bullets she's got left. where's that roland dude (or brick, or mordecai, for that matter) when you need him.]

Uh, Lin?

[Thankfully, Bob's both (barely) more sensible than Linda and right next to her, so as the coeurl advances, growling, he immediately abandons all tuna-based hopes and starts tugging at his wife's arm.]

You're not gonna get that canned tuna open in time. And even if you could, I don't know anybody who'd go for a tuna melt over a steak. And you know what we are, Linda?

We're steaks. Really, really great, juicy cuts of steak that haven't worked all the fat around the edges off because they can't run fast enough to outrun giant magic cats, Lin!

[#1]
[An animal disliking her is nothing new. Most of them know better than to approach death; they keep a healthy distance, as they should, and the most she's accustomed to is a little barking, a growl or some aggressive posturing.

This is neither of those things. This is a low rumble behind her, followed by a screaming yowl, and a moment later she's diving to her right, dropping the cigarette in her hand and rolling across the hard ground. It only buys her a moment as the large cat lunges past, and Hel pushes herself to her feet again as it wheels around again. Its teeth are bared, and her eyes are narrowed, glaring at the creature. Her voice slips out between clenched teeth, hard and cold.]

This is not a fight you want, beast.

[#3]

This has been a Day to end all days. She's been brought here against her will. The cat creature burned a hole in her favorite jacket. The powers controlling this place refuse to answer her, the inhabitants are the most irritating mortals she's ever had the displeasure of listening to, and now to top it all off--she's out of cigarettes. And apparently, no shop here seems to stock them. Running fingers through raggedly cut hair that's already a mess, the tall woman voices her displeasure to anyone close enough to hear:

"Humans have been finding plants to set on fire and inhale for literally millennia. How does this godsforsaken place have nothing, nothing even remotely resembling a damned cigarette??"

[The thing is, even though Kit is approximately the size of a large elephant? He's still part lion, still walks as quietly as any other cat, and unlike the coeurls, he's jet black from his crest to his talons. In the dark caves, until he gets quite close, the only thing that really gives him away is his bright orange eyes.

He pounces on one of the things, quick as a cat with a mouse. It tries to drain him and he slams back, the ugly raw clash of magics that don't really fit together. He savages it with his talons, not enough to kill, because they're just hungry animals, really, but enough to slow it down badly, a deep gash through one hamstring, then lets it wriggle free, screeching.

He hopes they both have the sense, the plain animal-instinct, to run, even though they didn't faced with her strange loud weaponry. Kit doesn't really like killing things.]

one;
[kung jin is a certified shaolin monk and a practiced archer, but he's also a former thief. and when you're making do on the streets, you know (for the most part) when it's smarter to back off than to face off against something directly.

so. are you overwhelmed by a bunch of shitty cats? or are you just about to get a really really cool final blow on one? either way, you're in luck, because somebody has settled into the crumbling ruins of some old stone structure a safe distance above-- and he is methodically sniping at coeurls with arrows shot from a very ornate-looking bow.

shout some appreciation up at jin's little alcove or something. you're welcome, hadriel.]

three;

[too bad the 'smarter to back off' thing doesn't apply when kung jin is pissed. and, unfortunately, he was kind of a big jerk to begin with. right now, his frustration's just below boiling point. if someone so much as looks at him the wrong way--]

What? If you're gonna say something, just say it.

[yeah, like that. well, he might just finally snap.]

[ from somewhere behind her comes a low, threatening hiss-- and then the slap of bare feet on the concrete. a moment later, a figure shoots past hel, flinging itself at the creature. mostly human-shaped, sexless in appearance, nude save for a sort of makeshift skirt that was obviously an afterthought, snakeskin gleams in patches on its slender back. fingers that end in wicked-looking claws tear into the yowling, fighting cat-- and jormungandr opens his (her, their perhaps-- what is gender to a monster, anyway?) mouth. wide, wider, teeth lengthening, fangs and shark's teeth gleaming as they clamp onto the feline's neck.

he clings, bare feet raking at fur as he tries to hold on, jaw clenching in an effort to find and snap the creature's spine.

there's a lot that the world serpent doesn't understand about being here, hel feels different and doesn't look the same as he remembers, but none of that matters at the moment. no one threatens his sister, no matter how well she can take care of herself. ]

scenario one

[ as if she could ignore the threat of a monster lurking in this unknown place.

it's not a monster that she has ever seen or one that she can clearly remember. no matter, ciri responds to its low growl and draws her sword from its sheathe on her back. its runes glow a pale greenish-white as she slips into a familiar stance, blade pointed at the beast. since it was anunfamiliar creature, she had to watch and learn its movements quick if she wanted to keep this battle in her favor. she was a witcher, it was her job to destroy monsters like this and hopefully protect whoever else might stumble into its path. there's a twitch of movement from the beast and ciri moves as ice erupt under her feet. magic, she thinks. perhaps this would be worth the effort.

her movements are graceful, precise and she closes the distance between them quickly while dodging the magical attacks thrown her way. once in striking range, there is a falter in her movement as she raises her sword and comes up short. there's a burn in the air and something crackles, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. in a flash of green-white light, she vanishes from sight as lightning strikes down where she once stood. a second later, she reappears at its other side, bringing her blade up in an upward motion to cut through its eye before vanishing again and reappearing at its back, sinking her blade into its spine. ]

You'll have to do better than that.

scenario two

[ as a witcher, digging up a body was never a good thing and usually came about in the form of a contract after something bad had already occurred. striga, wraith, ghouls, vampires and rotfiends were but a small number of beastss that appeared near the buried dead. this time, she was not hunting down some monsters but rather trying to save someone that had been cruelly buried alive under the heavy soil.

it sickens her to think that someone would do something like this. her anger boils inside but she continues to dig, hoping to reach whomever these coordinates represented before they ran out of oxygen or the dirt crushed them.

finally, a coffin comes into view and ciri breathes a tired sigh of relief. of course, there was the chance that this could all just be some trick. there could be something much worse waiting to be unleashed. whatever the case, she is ready and brushes some more dirt away and knocks atop the lid. still, if it was someone she should at least try and give them some hope. who knows what must have been going through their minds this entire time while trapped in that thing... ]

Hang on if you can hear me! I'll have this blasted thing open soon.

Edited 2016-01-23 08:39 (UTC)

[She isn't expecting help or rescue. Neither have ever been forthcoming or necessary at all. She's been on her own since she was a child, since they separated her from her siblings out of fear and ignorance, all for the deeds of her father and a gibbering old man's prophecies. She's always stood alone.

She stands alone again now, near frozen, as she hears a gods and watches blur rush by to the attack. There's a scent she recognizes in the wind as it blows by, something cool and dry, the smell of scales, but he looks so different--

It's the fangs that sell her, fangs and scales and the way he fights, and even if this creature isn't actually her brother it's close enough to send her running for the fray as the cat swipes at its opponent with a wickedly clawed paw. She reaches for the beast with a bare hand, catching it by one furred haunch, and after a second the fur begins to fall, muscle below the skin withering away to nothing. A wasting touch. She will not let it hurt him. If it is him. Secretly, deep down, she lets herself hope. It's been so long.]

A: ARRIVAL | SCENARIO TWO

[ Gansey doesn't remember getting here. He doesn't know how it happened, can't remember any sort of confrontation or incident that could have led to this. What he knows is that he's encased in a wooden box. That banging against the sides, and the lid, tells him either that it's thick and solid, or that it's being pressed in place by something else. His knuckles already feel torn and slick from trying to break through the wood, and it's done nothing but give him splinters.

He's in a coffin. Christ, he's in a coffin, and he's been buried and he will die here, or he's already dead and doesn't know it. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can't get enough air. He feels that there are insects buzzing around his ears, and he knows that can't be right, but the sound persists.

He has had this dream before.

It's not real, he tells himself. It's a dream, and he needs to wake from it, because outside of it it's likely that he's screaming and that will frighten his friends, and they can't know. He has to wake up, and he will before he dies. That's how it works, that's when the fear becomes too much and he wakes up.

His hands have never bled this much. That's a new detail. ]

Help! Help me!

[ It's instinct. He shouts it without meaning to, and then keeps shouting, and can't make himself stop. It's been years since he had this dream.

He has to wake up. ]

B: EXPLORING | SCENARIO ONE

[ By the time he tasted air, Gansey hadn't cared where he was. It hadn't mattered. He'd take anything over being in that box, anything at all. He's covered in soil, can feel clumps of it trapped beneath his fingernails. Gansey never looks like this. He's careful about being presentable, in every way, but right now he couldn't care less.

The problem now is that he's still buried. It had taken him a while to understand, to process what he was seeing. He's somehow, impossibly, still underground. Where is the light coming from? He's trying to put himself back together, to regain the calm and control that he'd lost in the coffin, and that's what he keeps wondering. And then of course, there's the city. The spires climbing up, and the fact that the whole thing seems to fit in one enormous hole in the rock. How does the ceiling stay up?

This is fascinating. It's like nothing he's ever seen, and the part of him that loves things like this is thrilled by it.

The part that just crawled out of a grave only wants to go home.

He's passing one of the spires when he hears the sound. He thinks it's a cat, at first. It has the right look, and it sounds something like a purr. Cats, underground? He takes a step towards it, and then suddenly it leaps out of the dark. The moment that he realizes it's so much more than a cat is the same moment a burst of energy thunders into him and throws him back. Gansey scrambles to his feet, horrified. ]

Christ, what fresh hell are you?

[ Whatever it is, there's fresh energy bristling around its...tentacles, Jesus. He quickly backs off, eyes wildly scanning the area for help. He has no idea how to fight something like this. He edges back and the cat follows, static rolling over its fur. He holds up his hand like he means to tame it.

This isn't going to go well. ]

Good cat. Stay - does this even work on cats?! [ He looks around, trying to catch an eye. It doesn't matter whose. ] If you don't mind, I could really use a hand!

[ the cat shrieks, staggering under the touch and the ripping, tearing of wicked teeth. it gives jormungandr the opening he needs-- he bites down again, finding the spine at last, and a moment later the sickening crunch of bones snapping sounds in the air. the creature slumps to the ground, the serpent still tangled around it. only when it's stopped twitching does he release it, lifting himself away and rising on slightly unsteady feet. blood and fur mar his mouth--far more human now, his instinctive shapeshifting adjusting his form once again--and he lifts a hand to wipe the back of it carelessly over his lips, smearing the blood more than anything.

he blinks, eyes wide and poison-green and serpentine in his face, and seems to brighten at the sight of her. ] Ssssister. [ his hands reach, then pause uncertainly, puzzled about the right gesture to make. his contact with mortals is rare, and seeing his siblings like this is unheard of. being in this shape makes everything confusing. ]

[A shadow interposes between Gansey and the strange cavernous light - Kit's wings, at full extension, are massive. Then he pulls them in and drops onto his feet absurdly lightly for an elephant-sized griffin.]

It doesn't work on cats.

[He's got a squawky parrot-y sort of voice, but about four octaves lower pitched. Then he makes an awful blaring avalanche of a noise, an eagle's ugly squall wrapped around a deep-bellow lion roar.

Just go away, he means by that sound, I'm much bigger than you. He hopes the creature is catlike enough to prefer saving face, but plenty of other things are wrong here, so maybe it won't.]

[Noah would really, really, REALLY rather run for it right about now, but he is pretty sure that as long as Gansey has it's attention entirely and it seems to be perfectly healthy, it'll come after them, and he's also pretty sure that thing can outrun them.

There's no time to be grateful at seeing Gansey. He can celebrate later. Right now his friend needs him and like with the nightmares and Ronan, that's the only time Noah can be brave.

It's a reckless sort of abandon that has him dive for it, slashing semi-blindly at it with the hunting knife. He gets shocked for his trouble, flickers out of existence right after landing a slash to it's leg. The knife sails out of his hands, skidding along the ground and at Gansey's feet.

Noah, now next to Gansey, grabs the knife then Gansey's hand.]

Run!

[Maybe with a leg wound they have a chance, but for all Noah knows he barely grazed anything. He's not going to stop to check.]

[She clings tenaciously as the cat thrashes, her grip tight despite the small abrasions and the scrape of claws through the leather of her jacket. It can't last long with both of them here, and there's blood flowing hot and free over her hands by the time she hears that crack and the thing shudders to stillness.

It takes her a moment to climb back to her feet, breathing hard and her clothing askew. None of that matters as she looks more closely at him, at this strange new shape, at those bright eyes that are the one thing she can recognize. The creature behind them, if nothing else. It's him. It's him, and whatever gods think they rule this place will regret this day. The smile that breaks over her face is fierce and savage and delighted all at once, and she reaches out to take his bloodied hands in her own.]

Brother. It is you. You're...smaller than I remember.

[She's tall, in this form; an inch or so shy of six feet, angular and long-limbed, and her skin burns hot, almost feverish. Not the same as before, but which of them is?]

[The Demon is just about to smack one of these stupid cats across the nose with a baseball bat and hopefully send its head flying somewhere away from its body when an arrow suddenly sprouts out of the things face and it goes down.

Needless to say, the Demon is not pleased.]

What the fuck? Go find your own!

[that is precisely the moment when two headshots connect, one after the other, and a familiar hah comes from behind her. faint, but still audible, and there's a skinny figure up on the roof who's lowering a rifle from his shoulder.

pause, with his eyebrow raising and then-]

Lilith? That you?

[hair like that isn't on just any woman.]

[onedirection_whatmakesyoubeautiful_laughingversion.mp3]

How 'bout a thank you?

[jk lol, jin was clearly not trying to be helpful, and he's also clearly aware of how much of a dick move he is. look at him preening up there.]

You get kidnapped by mysterious forces one time, and suddenly everybody's lost all their manners. [he's playing it up: his sigh of disbelief's a little too convincing.] People these days.

[Not so long ago, Adam was the one in the coffin. Three days down there, and it had almost broken him. The dark, the fetid air, the lack of food and water. The loneliness.

After that, he could never leave someone else to that fate. No one who didn't desperately deserve it, anyway, and so when the coordinates appeared on his phone he didn't waste time. There was only one set, which is probably good - it means this is the only person who's buried, that he doesn't need to search for them, that whoever they are will be out soon. He got a shovel, found the right spot, and got to work.

But digging takes a long time. He's tired and sweaty by the time he gets down to the coffin, and not paying as close attention as he could. It takes him a moment before he hears what sounds like shouting, and whether that's because of his weariness or his bad hearing, it doesn't matter. He remembers what it felt like, and his sore hands clench in sympathy.

He taps his shovel against the lid of the coffin, hard enough to be hard, hopefully not hard enough to frighten.]

Hey! I'm almost there, I just have to get enough dirt off to open it. Hold on!

[ much smaller, in all likelihood. in this near-human shape, jormungandr would be considered petite, even, leaving him looking up at his sister. not that shape matters much; he'd inherited that much of their father, at least, and his shapechanging is untaught and natural. he might look entirely different tomorrow, or an hour from now, but the creature beneath his skin is always the midgard serpent.

his fingers curl in her own, careful of his claws, and he steps closer, hardly believing it. they'd been children the last they'd seen one another, before they'd been torn from their mother and one another. he hears tales, now and then, but it's not the same as seeing her, being able to touch her.

he blinks once and doesn't smile, human expression still difficult for him, but the entire sense of him is warm and grateful and fiercely loving. ]

I do not wear thiss shape often. [ he glances down at himself briefly, bare feet curling against the concrete. ] .. Not many mortals in the deeps. [ his gaze lifts once more, and he lifts her hands, clutching them against his chest as if afraid to let go. ] We will not be separated again. Yes?

[she freezes at the first sharp crack of mordecai's rifle, and turns neatly on her heel just in time for the second.

well, well, well. lilith couldn't have held back the grin spreading across her face if she tried.]

About time. [her tense stance loosens. shifting her weight onto one foot, she shoulders the empty gun.] Next time, could you do that maybe 30 seconds faster? 'Preciate it.

Fear - 1

[Or maybe not fear. Giant cats? No sweat. Sanji has taken down much larger prey than this before, and recently at that. Who or whatever thinks he should be afraid of this is sorely mistaken.

He strolls along with his hands in his pockets, a cigarette in his lips trailing smoke in his wake, seemingly oblivious to the creatures stalking him from the rooftops and alleys. He really looks like he's about to become cat food, as one suddenly leaps down from on high, claws extended...

...only to run slam into his foot as he kicks out behind him and plows it bodily into the building across the street.]

You're going to have to try harder than that!

[Now, if he happens to spot a damsel in feline distress? He'll be there! Right there right now.]

Rage

[On the other hand, it really doesn't take much to provoke Sanji's anger. Finding himself here is irritating enough on its face, but then one of those cat things ripped his suit coat, he's almost out of cigarettes, and on top of that, people just will not stop staring at his eyebrow.

When he reaches the snapping point, he rounds on some guy.]

TAKE A PICTURE, IT'LL LAST LONGER!

[He doesn't even wait to see if someone wants to fight him, his shoe skids sideways and kicks flame up his leg. That's right, assholes, he's already so pissed at everything he's going to go full Diable Jambe on the next person whose eyes land on his spiraling eyebrow.]

[And run it does. The second coeurl, knowing it's been outmatched, takes off with its tail between its legs; its brother stumbles close behind, trailing blood here and there on the dirt.

Lilith, halfway to pulling a slightly worse for wear revolver out of her pack, blinks. She has no idea what Kit is, but watching one weird thing get the thrashing of its life from a bigger, weirder thing is enough to leave her dumbfounded. She picks her jaw up off the floor in time to blurt out--]

Thanks. [unless, of course, this new creature's going to try to eat her instead. Good thing she found the other gun, at least?]

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TEST DRIVE MEME #5

Effie Trinket | The Hunger Games

Firo Prochainezo | Baccano!

two

Linda Belcher / Bob's Burgers / yeah idk either

lilith | borderlands

@the rest of hadriel we're sorry (i think)

Hel | Norse mythology-ish

Re: lilith | borderlands

kung jin | mortal kombat

one! hope you don't mind........

ciri | the witcher

Oh my god why would I mind

Gansey | The Raven Cycle

w-well, you never know u///u

no subject

B

I never get siblings! :D

One

no subject

B)

A

no subject

cries.

Sanji | One Piece

no subject