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dankmemes2018-02-18 10:46 am
hadrielmods) wrote in dankmemes2018-02-18 10:46 am
Entry tags:
Test Drive Meme #29
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 February 21st, and apps are open March 1st. Please remember that there is an app cap of 20 apps.
Two quick points here as well:1. Any thread made in Hadriel's test drive will be accepted as the sole Action Log sample in the application.
2. All threads made in the test drive can be considered game canon, either through handwaving or through a shared mental experience while coming through the Door!
Test drives will be broken up into specific god mini-events, during which your characters can see how well they fare under the watchful eye of one of the gods. Choose wisely or just simply pick 'em all, and have fun!
F E A R
SCENARIO ONE: FRACTURED FUTURE?
[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.
This time, the Door has decided to bring in some monsters who already have a taste of what it's like to win their war. Welcome to the Risen, from the Fire Emblem franchise!
Risen are reanimated corpses, dedicated to obeying their master's will. While they have some form of sentience, they cannot be dissuaded from their goal and attack all who oppose them with a singleminded desire to execute their purpose, which unfortunately for you is "killing indiscriminately". Still, they're not all bad and some of them may even be relieved to finally be put to death. Have fun!]
T R A N Q U I L I T Y
SCENARIO TWO: ONLY THE GOOD STUFF
[Tranquility has decided to take over Hope's food supply regimen and- well, if anyone thought he was a self righteous hipster before, this is probably what's going to seal the deal. All the food provided in the shops is now extremely vegan-only, from basic lettuce to the most bland fruit you can stand to look at.
None of it even tastes like anything, either- it's all like you're eating water. Maybe to Tranquility, this is a feast, but for you, it's difficult to register that you're even full. Better start prepping those salt mines- it's gonna be a long month.]
R A G E
SCENARIO THREE: YANDERE LIFE
[Unfortunately for you, you came at a time when Rage was very unhappy with everyone- and now you get to suffer for it. Is there anyone who catches your eye? Anyone who you might want to get to know a little better? Well, you're about to get to know them a lot better, because now you're obsessed with them.
It's not the innocent kind of obsession, either- this is a full speed ahead, breakdown, pull out the knives and rope kind of obsession, where your desire to be near someone is synonymous with stalking, being a creep, and overall just not really anything remotely approaching healthy.
Better look out and hope that nobody gets a crush on you either.
This is a mini version of our Kiss me Kill me event this month.]
agent maine | red vs. blue
let's go with option two.
It turns out the answer is "pretty easily, if someone has dragged you in." It isn't terribly difficult for Maine to do, either, considering the fact that he's got nearly a foot of height and who knows how much weight on Charles.
This definitely beats getting maimed by zombies, at least for the current moment, but he's got a look on his face like he expects things to get worse, after he's been shoved onto the stool.
The guy isn't even saying anything, which somehow makes it worse. For now, Charles will attempt to look slightly indignant, which is difficult given the situation. ]
Isn't this too obvious of a place to hide?
no subject
he sets the phone on the bar once he's done, angling the screen toward charles. ]
not hiding
[ why hide when half the fun is in killing shit that wants to kill him. ]
just getting acquainted with my surroundings
[ and the alcohol within those surroundings. ]
no subject
Maybe he'll just let Maine have that. ]
When those...things are outside?
[ It seems like he could've picked a better time, but... ]
You're not worried at all, are you?
fear 2 project origin
York's in this exact bar, in some quiet corner, also dressed down in some civvies he also uh borrowed from somewhere -- something with a hood to cover up his face and keeps him obscured well enough. He seems like just any other guy in here, someone nursing a drink and spending too much time staring at his phone -- poring over what information he has. What he's seen, what he's figured out, and Maine he first caught sight of a while ago. Keeping an eye on him from afar. Delta's gone ( god he's gone ) and that means Sigma must be, too, but that doesn't mean shit until he can get a real measure on him.
And conveniently, he's here. He probably could just go right up to him. But instead, he watches him from under the hood for a few moments before he just kind of turns his head and sinks further down onto the table, head on his arm. Just enough to make it look like he's passed the fuck out, to obscure what he's doing, his phone in his other hand as he scrolls quickly through the network, and. Ah. There you are. ]
hey
[ It comes in anonymous. Sorry buddy, it's not that he doesn't trust you except he actually doesn't trust you at all and he's not sorry. Buddy. ]
random question.
you ever do something you really regret?
no subject
but the man isn't moving, and the bar is still empty, and outside another one of those creatures staggers up to the window, pressing its face up against the glass and blinking creepily at maine.
he picks up his phone, takes his sweet time typing up his four-letter response. ]
nope.
no subject
[ Anonymous is so unimpressed with you. ]
that doesn't mean you haven't done anything worth regretting
really all it means is that you're probably kind of an ass.
just saying
buckle in, here comes round two: how much would it take for you to hurt someone?
[ All York's trying to do is needle him enough to see what he can get out of him. Maine, he remembers Maine. Maybe they never got along all that great, but he was still a brother, still a teammate, even if they really didn't see, ah, eye-to-eye, after that whole training incident. He won't stop holding that against him, but what'd happened at the breakout. The day everything fell apart. What'd happened to Carolina -- that wasn't Maine. That couldn't be Maine. Not unless Maine was a different man from the one he knows, and maybe he wasn't. maybe there isn't really a difference between him and Sigma anymore, but if there is -- ( how do you think he sounds, D, except wait, Delta still isn't fucking here ) -- if there is, York likes to think he'll be able to see it. If he just gets him to talk enough.
And maybe he's also trying to piss him off. Juuust a little. Or a lot. Mostly because it'll be productive, though. Mostly. ]
1. ish
re, isn't as fluid as it should be. Past, present, and future are just words. That's something that sticks with her.
She's learned about these days and the Door, about how her own arrival is just one of many. She's had time to recover, as much as she can anyway, for the time being. Still in her armour, she's in better shape this time, and doing what she can to help anyone that needs it. It's a small step on a very long path that she needs to take.
No nurses this time, which is neither here nor there in the grand scheme of things, as there are still creatures. She's incapacitated those that needed it, helped people find the way out when they need it, until she sees it. That armour.
The Meta.
Or Maine.
A myriad of emotions there either way, of the past, and all that has happened. She'd let them down. Let them all down. Her gun is at her side, alert but not hostile, watching. Not that she's planning on taking any sort of action against him, but until she knows, there is going to remain a wariness to her.]
Just got here.
[Half statement. Half question. The armour might be different, but the voice is the same. Older. More tired. But it's Carolina.]
no subject
carolina is an anchor, a familiar voice in the chaos, and maine turns toward her like he isn't surprised to see her here because he isn't, not really, because where else would she be if not reluctantly stuck in some hellish dimension with him. the armor is different – cleaner, upgraded, maybe half a shade brighter – but carolina is carolina so maine holsters his pistol immediately.
he pulls up a bioscan on his hud and scans her over for injuries and abnormalities. everything looks green on his end, except that she's stopped about six yards away from him and not moving. the distance is intentional, and it rubs raw against maine's nerves.
he nods once at her question, then steps closer, uncertain. you good? ]
no subject
Yet there's enough of an answer in his actions that her shoulders drop, and while the guard doesn't go down completely, it is rare that it ever does these days. Even retirement, if one could call it that hadn't seen her exactly kicking her feet up and laying back, no matter how hard she might have tried to accomplish that.
It's easy enough to let those old feelings rise, swell like a tidal wave that's going to drown her. He'd taken a hit meant for her, and she'd declined Sigma for him. A beginning of an end, there. And she doesn't deserve it, to see him again, at least like this. Entering the Temple, watching them all die again, it had broken her and cemented that foundation that she wasn't going to let anyone else die again.]
Just- surprised. It's... been a while. Which is going to take some explaining, but here's not the best place.
fear! hey look at us and our pb choices
Wow. Rude. Haven't you ever heard of personal space?
it's not our fault the 100 has some gorgeous ppl in it!! god help us if hadriel gets a 100 cast
he seems completely unbothered by her comment, already grabbing the bottle of whiskey at the edge of the bar and pouring himself a second drink. personal space is for civilians, and for people who don't care about having their guts spread everywhere by whatever wants to kill them on that particular day. personal space isn't for a man who's been trained since sixteen to cover the ass of everyone except for himself. civilians first, always.
she might not be a civilian but maine thinks he did her a favor anyway ( like, there's liqueur in here and monsters out there; not a hard choice ), and because he's perfectly capable of being polite in his own way, he scoots his barstool about five or six inches away from her. there. space. ]
ikr i'd feel sorry for everyone involved
Why'd you grab me anyway? Were you afraid I was going to get a sunburn or something?
[That was a bad joke. Whatever.]
Number 1
So Tucker came to the same place he had arrived at, armed with his sword as he looked for nurses. Nope. None of that shit, so it must be a different monster each time. Okay. Cool. He could live without their bandaged face
and nice assesagain. Zombies, though? Meh. He's dealt with worse, and as long as there wasn't a zombie Felix, he was coo--No. Wait. There was another fucking zombie Tucker didn't want to deal with it. Hulking white armor. Fishbowl amber visor. Not a dripping wet or frozen or whatever happened to him. Whole. Writing in the dirt.
What was worse: the memory of that armor around Tucker as the emptiness swarmed him after Epsilon deleted himself, or the fact that this fuckstick was wearing it and seemed alive and well?
Nope. Nope. Nope. He wanted to nope right out of there, but his hand tightened on the sword.]
No. No fucking way. [Sure, let's be vague, shall we?]
Fear with Booze
Well, not yet. There's still time.
She's wandering happily from table to table, pretending to drink and inserting herself into conversations while Barnaby shadows her, always pressed against her legs or lying directly on top of her feet. He keeps her safe. He's her perfect good boy. The best dog in the whole universe. With her best dude, a nice warm place to hang out, and all the company she could ever want, it's a good night. Almost perfect.
And, of course, there's the man watching her from the corner.
Miriam ignores him. He's quiet and careful-still, not the sort she likes to fuss with. They're dangerous when they're quiet and he's so big. Even bigger than the Commander, who Miriam sometimes thinks wasn't a person at all but something else wearing a person-face and pretending. But it's not so good to be watched and so she makes her way toward the door.
Time for a timely exit, yeah?
Then there's a big hand clamped on her shoulder.
Oh.
He guides her to a chair. She sits. She does it very politely.
Barnaby's claws go tictictic across the bar floor. His teeth are bared but no sound comes out. No growl. But he's ready, oh he's ready, if the big man moves again. Miriam holds perfectly still, bad arm tucked carefully into her jacket. She's been so careful not to let anyone see what happened to her hand. It might be bad, if someone realizes. And by now he's felt the armor plates in her jacket, the Commander's big coat with the skull on the back, Sons of Plunder embroidered ever so lovely along the side.
Whoops.]
You're really tall.
[She keeps her voice nice and quiet. Not making a fuss, nope.]
You shouldn't grab people, mister. He doesn't like that.
[She glances down at her dog. Barnaby's teeth are bared.]
booze
She whirls around to glare at her captor, spitting fire and ready to fight. ]
Get your hands off me!