Test Drive Meme #29

[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 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.]

Comments

[decryptify]

[ York gets the words out, starts to look up -- and just catching a glimpse of the color of her armor is enough to have his breath catching slightly, the green seafoam turquoise blue, they never really did settle on what the hell to call it. It's just a color, right, it's nothing, and he's forcing himself over that instinctive hump when he hears her voice, and that's. Everything goes out the window.

He'd know that voice anywhere.

He doesn't keep looking up. He doesn't need to, to know what's there, and he's not sure he's entirely ready to see that -- just another dream, maybe, just another figment of his imagination, another flickering image of her that'll melt away like all the others. But what if this one stays? What then? All this time searching, and not just that. All this time starting to slowly, slowly accept that maybe, just maybe. There really was just nothing to be found.

Finally, he looks up, and any words he has to say just die in his throat. Because there she is, as she pulls off her helmet. Everything he remembers. Different, too, there's definitely different, but right now all he sees is everything familiar, everything he remembers, everything that hits him right in his chest. The familiar way her hair falls around her face when she pulls off the helmet -- those eyes. Bright and brilliant as ever. He stares at her for what feels like far too long before he gathers himself up enough to even try to say something, but he ends up. Not managing it.

Instead he's just pushing himself up to his feet. Silently, wordlessly, lifting his hands up to the latches of his own helmet to pull it off, tucking it under his arm. York just looks back at her with that one good eye, kind of looks like he half-expects her to be swept away by a gust of wind. Like he's just waiting for the moment to come where he just has to shake his head and laugh and tell himself of course, of course, what the hell were you expecting, and move right on.

God. It's just been so long. Not even since he last saw her -- but since he stopped trying. ]

[uptightness]

[There's so many things that she'd say to them, to all of them, if she had the chance, but it's not like her own circumstances. Her death had been faked, allowing everyone to think that the fall had killed her. Looking back, there are so many things that she would have done differently with what she now knows. It eats at her, daily, all those actions and reactions that had happened because of her. So much time lost, and it's not something that she can get back.

Or at least she shouldn't be able to.

Carolina thinks to that lighter that she carries, will always carry, that keepsake that she had thought that she would need to get rid of, until Wash had set her straight. He had a way of doing that, from calling her on her bullshit in the beginning, to being an ear that would simply just listen if and when she needs someone to talk to. He's still an idiot, at times, but they are all, herself included. One big idiotic family. What they should have been, before Carolina let it all get to her head.

Yet for everything that she has thought she would say, there's nothing there today. It's just the hammering of her heart as she's confronted with him, watching as his helmet rises to catch her face, and is seemingly as lost as she is. When is the question, and while maybe once she might have been more callous with her questions, seeking only to obtain the answers to the questions that she's asking, time has tempered her temper. Wash. Epsilon. The Blues. The Reds. Her second chance at a family that she still doesn't feel that she deserves, but York's the same as she last saw him, too many years ago now.]

Shit.

[Because shit indeed. After her fall, is what she would guess given his reaction, so he doesn't know of her survival. Never would, meeting his own end. They're a dying race, the Freelancers, the sins of the past (and not even just their own sins) catching up with them. Illinois had gotten his dream, until reality had come crashing back in in the form of Temple. Her eyes might break free from his, scanning, aware that just because some of the creatures are dead at his feet doesn't mean that more will not appear, but they always return, as if looking at a ghost. Maybe he is. Maybe he's vanish before her eyes. It wouldn't be the first time.]

It's not entirely safe here. There's an exit, south of here.

[The words you'll come? left unspoken, at least verbally, although it's written across her face. Outside of here, outside of this strange place, somewhere where she can guarantee it's not some screwed up trick.]

[decryptify]

[ Except York keeps staring and the vision doesn't fade. She doesn't disapppear. She doesn't melt away. York doesn't wake up to Delta calmly telling him the time and informing him that he's actually already ignored two of his alarms, and he'd told him the night before to make sure the third one would count. There's still just silence and an emptiness in his head, still a desperate ache in his chest -- and still Carolina. Standing right in front of him.

Real. God. Dare he even think it? Actually her. It's been -- it's been years. Actual years. The more he stares at her the more solid and real she seems, the more he thinks he notices things that are different about her. Older? Something different in her eyes, not the color, not how bright, just -- what's behind them. Something slightly changed about that fire he always remembers. And when he tries to keep looking, to keep staring -- shit, his eye starts to give him trouble. This is easier when he has Delta around to make the corrections for him.

He starts to say something, but then Carolina breaks the quiet first. And the first thing she says, after all these years? Shit. That's kind of ridiculous enough that he almost feels a little better, actually has a bit of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, the start of his familiar, lopsided grin. He doesn't really know exactly what she's cursing at, but for some reason. That kind of seems exactly like her.

And before he gathers himself up to say something again, Carolina is already moving on. Matter-of-fact in her words, but he can see that question written so plainly across her face. Instinctively York still kind of feels like it's a trick, an illusion, a test, like saying yes and going along with her will be what fails him at it. Like this is some fucked up version of his own mind trying to prove to himself whether or not he's really learned to move on. How could she still be alive? So many of them are gone, now. Everything had just started to fall apart. She'd just been one of the first, and without her of course the cracks had only started to spread.

That smile doesn't fade. He just tips his head back as he looks at her, ticking two fingers to his forehead. A simple, casual kind of salute. ]

Boss. [ Sitrep acknowledged. Maybe York has no idea quite how to handle this right now, if it's real. Maybe neither of them do. But he sure does remember how to work, and they always worked well together. He finally pulls his gaze away from her, forcing himself to briefly check their surroundings -- pulling his magnum from its holster again, just briefly checking it over. A shot on this one, maybe another shot earlier . . . He moves to put his helmet back on. Quiet the whole time, and it's only when the latches are back in place that he looks back up at her, with a slight cock of his head to the side. ] Lead the way.

[ He's got you covered. Always does. ]

[uptightness]

[She would have preferred it if he had done something, anything, even taken a swing at her, but that wasn't York, and still isn't, is it? He'd always been friendly, laid-back, cool. Socializing had come easy to him, drinking and joking, and it's still not that easy for her. Those walls she put up have come down, but it's learning still how to be at ease with herself, and with others, and letting them in. She's come a long way, but hell if she knows what the right thing to say right now it. A punch would have been easier, because she deserves it, and a whole lot more.

And yes, shit it is. A part of her is already kicking herself, because an apology should have been the first thing- or maybe the third thing to leave her mouth. It aches though, that dull pain that's never left, a void that's never quite been filled. And that grin of his... It exists only in her memories now. She knows now that it doesn't need to be, that she's going to have to accept it and that it will have its own place in her. Yet it's not exactly the best place to have any sort of a meaningful conversation, although how the hell to even get that started... Where is Caboose and his malarkey, or even Tucker and his lewd comments. Something, anything, to break the ice.

Boss. She doesn't deserve that honour either. A real boss would have done better, would have listened, would have- She can chew herself up all day and night over that, and has. Her eyes flicked closed for a moment, that tenseness in her jaw, before she exhales. Maybe like these creatures, he'll fade when the fog dissipates, when she reaches that exit that leaves this place behind. Do you want to risk it, a part of her whispers, but she's already slipping her own helmet back in to place. Slight changes, perhaps noticeable, waiting until she knows that he's ready before she moves out, instead of just moving out and expecting him to follow. Yet this part comes easily, slipping back to those early days, before Texas, before her own insecurities chewed at her, before all the bullshit. This is second nature, having him there at her side, as she tips her own head, before moving out.

And yes, shit. Because she should have been better back then, she should have done more, and they had deserved so much better...

It's only a handful of the beings that they run across. It does seem to be true. They're more numerous further in, and in better shape than before, they don't prove much of a challenge to them. This part flows so naturally, like it was only yesterday that they'd been out on a mission. A bullet when needed, but hand to hand other times. Checking though, always checking, as if York is going to vanish as well, that fear gnawing at her guts until there it is, and she hesitates for a moment, before stepping free and in to the area beyond.

Home. Not really, of course, but home isn't a place for her anymore, but the people who are there. Yet Carolina's turning as they're out, and he's still there. If her whole world had come crashing down before, it's exploding now, and she's waiting for it, for something, for anything, for him to not truly be here. And screw it all, because York still hasn't disappeared, and maybe he thinks she's crazy, and maybe she is, but whatever it is, she's hugging him.]

You're real- I didn't- I never thought I'd see you again.