Test Drive Meme #6

[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 23rd, and apps are open March 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: BLOBBED
[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 several Blobs, from the similarly titled 1988 movie, The Blob for you meet.

These gelatinous creatures have no weak spots or brains that can be sliced or crushed to kill them. Instead, their only goal is to absorb and dissolve its prey so that it can grow larger. Think that its, er, blob-like form makes it easy to avoid? Think again- it moves faster than one might expect, as shown in its canon 'kill' video here (with a healthy cw warning for gore and 80's movie effects).]

R A G E
SCENARIO TWO: WENDIGONE
[Hey, that snack you found? It might taste a little too familiar. At least you don't have time to worry about accidental cannibalism too much though, because you've now become host to a vengeful wendigo spirit! The transformation will be sped up for the purposes of this test drive, though you can post at whichever point in the change you desire. Want to tear people to shreds? Go for it. Want to try to clutch onto the last few pieces of your humanity? Be our guest!

On the flipside, as someone who is unaffected, you may be trying to arm yourself and take these wendigos head-on... or, you may be trying to figure out a way you can save them, which would involve somehow trapping them on Hope's altar. Think you can handle that?

This is a mini version of our Who What Where Wendigo event this month!]


H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: CARNATION DAY
[You know those moments in high school that everyone used to dread? Where everyone would spend a week or so with the opportunity to buy a carnation or two for someone they like, only for carnation day to come along and dash any hopes and dreams you had of getting a flower from that special someone?

Well, here's your chance to relive that day- but, you know, hopefully make it end a little happier.

In this prompt, some characters will emerge through the Door- or wake up, or just suddenly appear- with carnations clutched in their hands. These flowers can be any color of your choosing, and all have tags on them. They can be addressed to you or to someone else, and in that FROM category? Well, from your secret admirer, of course- or any other character who may or may not have sent it! Here's to hoping they're a good one!]

Comments

[wipedclean]

[A fragment of a memory surfaces: the doctor speaking to him--the procedure has already begun--and looking down to see his metal arm, then grabbing a technician and choking him with it.

He cringes.]

Yes.

[prespangled]

[They already have a differing opinion about something. See, Steve knows plenty of guys with big hands, scarred and calloused. All it really means is that they have rough hands. It didn't make them a man, that required something a little more.

Steve's hands are pale, he'd give him that. The fingers are slender and delicate. But they've curled into fists to raise against guys with bigger hands and bigger bodies. Those hands have waved other men away while he was laying on top of a grenade, waiting for it to go off. Those fingers have been stained with newsprint after standing for hours on flat feet with an aching back, all so he can bring home a couple of bucks in the hope that maybe his ma wouldn't have to work so hard this month.

But in the end, hands are just hands. Most people have them.]

I haven't seen any poinsettia. Figured you might just be making do.

[Making do is another thing that Steve's good at. He bristles at the 'kiddo', chin tipping up.]

It's Steve. And I thought you might know who I could talk to about helping out around here.

[prespangled]

[Steve's frown deepens at that. His eyes travel up Bucky's arm, but he can't see where it joins his shoulder, or the mess of scar tissue there. He can imagine it though.]

I'm gonna make 'em pay. [He doesn't know how or win. All of that's really irrelevant as far as he's concerned. He's going to do it. Steve's fingers travel up a little.] Can you feel that any?

[wipedclean]

[He lets out a soft huff at that, but doesn't speak what he thinks, because for some reason he knows that saying no, you won't, wont' go over well. But as far as he knows, it's truth.

Instead he concentrates on how Steve's slender fingers travel up the metal of his arm. The sensors read the pressure and heat, and his brain interprets it as touch.]

Yes.

[ukase]

[They were doing full on introductions, were they? He supposed that made sense given the state that Rogers was in, and it dawned on him that he could act and do as he pleased without the possibility of their... ah associations at SHIELD clogging up the pipes. Rogers was no dope and wouldn't be fooled by a completely different act, but like last time, he could keep certain details to himself.

He was a private man by nature, never indulging in talks about his personal life. Not much anyway. Maybe a few teasing details. It was just too bad that a lot of Rogers' details were laid out in history books, film reels and interviews. Just never this version of events.]

I can make do with far less.

[His lip tugged higher at the bristling, spotting it right away. God damn it would be a major turn-on to slam this little fire cracker into the pavement.]

Steve then. I have no idea; I just arrived myself through some weird door. I'm waiting for the memo on what the hell is going on. You're free to wait with me. Strength in numbers and all that.

[ukase]

[And just like that the situation was defused. He was under no illusions that she would order that beast of a dog on him if he tried any funny business, but he figured he could get his Glock sidearm out of the holster on his thigh and plug one in the dog before moving on to her if he needed to. They weren't near any alleys. It didn't seem like they would be getting to that point at all.]

You betcha. I'm making the world a safer and better place, and if it required my death to achieve it, so be it.

[He had long ago accepted that he was walking towards that ultimate end, but INSIGHT was a precious thing. It would bring about a world peace that no one could contest, and in that time, all those people who thought themselves so clever and wily would get exactly as they deserved. There would be no more need for bad men like him either.]

You're back to witch burnings in space? Damn, and here I thought we had finally moved forward with doing people in. [He began to move on now that he was armed and the car no longer useful to him.] Probably not as easy as it looks.

[ukase]

[He sniffed at the air, certain he was so close that he could taste it. There was a faint sound which might have been someone breathing, but in the streets it was impossible to tell. He was also so new at this that he was relearning skills and developing new ones.

Rumlow only knew that he was so unbearably hungry.

Suddenly, he turned away at a sound in the alley where he had been previously settled. A vermin had attracted his attention and he move backwards towards it, a sure thing by his measure instead of the tentative listening and scenting.]

[dogsanddaughters]

[They were moving again, seeking cover or a new target. Miriam followed close, letting go of Barnaby so the dog could range. Scout out a little bit. He'd probably smell the monsters coming before the soldier man did. Barnaby was good for stuff like that. He'd been designed that way. Miriam put her hands into her pockets, watching the buildings just in case. So far they hadn't seen anyone else. This place felt dead in more ways than one.] Maybe you are. Lotsa people try that. Guess some of 'em make it work.

[That was the hope anyway, as Miriam understood it. She didn't understand the point behind anything that the Inferno Corps or the Sons or anyone else did. Mostly they killed people. Some of them wanted peace or said they did, but Miriam had never seen it happen.

Oh well. Not her fight. Never had been.

She nodded, remembering the smell of gasoline and cooking meat.] Uh huh. Used to just be the slavers they'd burn, but now it's everyone. It's a whole big thing. Well, the Sons don't burn people. Drownin's their thing.

[Each group had a thing. Public executions were all the rage these days. Miriam frowned.]

Gilly said that's what they did to my real parents, but I don't remember and he's a liar anyway.

[prespangled]

[There must be some appeal to introducing Steve to the pavement, it's happened enough. But he never stayed for breakfast. His eyes are one of the few things about him that stay the same, and they flicker over Rumlow, taking in what he sees without making any real judgement about it. They're back up to Rumlow's again when he finishes speaking.]

By the looks of it, that's probably a good thing here.

[What he's seen of the city so far doesn't suggest a land of prosperity. Steve watches him a few moments more, the tension in him easing off a little at a time. The guy seems smug, a little rough around the edges, but nothing he can't deal with.]

Yeah, maybe that's a good idea. [The stubbornly independent part of him wants to try going it on his own, but watching this guy's back seems like the right thing to do.] I didn't catch your name.

[prespangled]

[People have told him that he can't or won't do a lot of things. It hardly even bothers him anymore, he just works that much harder to prove them wrong.]

Your other arm was just fine.

[His hand drops away. He's angry about it, not at Bucky, but on his behalf. Because he hardly seems bothered about it at all.]

I guess you don't remember this, but you were a boxer. Three time champ at the YMCA.

[wipedclean]

[The metal arm is a part of him as much as the rest of his limbs are. It enables him to be a more effective and deadly weapon. It doesn't bother him.

It's fairly clear that Steve's upset about the arm, which confuses the soldier somewhat. He speaks, brings up something, a memory, and the soldier searches for it in his mind to no avail.

He shakes his head slightly.]

No, I don't remember.

[prespangled]

You were really something.

[Steve smiles faintly, but it fades when he thinks he hears something outside. He turns his head in the direction of the door, listening for a few moments. When nothing comes of it, he relaxes again.]

You always said it was a lot like dancing. You liked to do that too.

[tishinka]

[Irisa shoots her a look before rolling her eyes.]

Has anyone told you, you talk to much?

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam just beams. You've made a friend Irisa. And she's never gonna leave you alone.] Nope, never, nu-uh.

[tishinka]

[She snorts, she finds that incredibly hard to believe.]

Then consider this the first time.

[dogsanddaughters]

Aww. Don't be like that. [She pouts. It's adorable. Miriam knows. She practices in the mirror.] Barnaby likes you. And he's royalty, you know? His Royal Highness Sir Bartholomew Barnaby Barks a Lot the Third.

[tishinka]

[Miriam might think her pouting is adorable but it won't work on Irisa. Unless it's a small child, or animals, she goes unaffected by cute things.]

I wasn't aware dogs could be royal.

[dogsanddaughters]

[Hey, it works on hookers and pirate captains. Miriam gets around.]

Sure they can! All ya need is a crown. Do ya want one, Irisa? I seen people braid flowers into crowns, I bet I could do one like that.

[tishinka]

[Okay, that suggestion actually gets a little laugh out of her.]

I'm good.

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam beams. She got a smile! Charm wins again.] You sure? It'd look nice with your hair.

[tishinka]

[It's a short-lived smile, but yes, be proud to receive it at all.]

I'm not really the flower crown sort.

[dogsanddaughters]

More guns and bayonets, right? [World takes all kinds. Miriam doesn't judge.] That's okay. More flowers for His Highness. Ain't he handsome?

[The royalty in question is currently peeing on a rock. As dogs will do.]

[tishinka]

[Irisa frowns, responding quickly.] I don't like guns.

[And the knives are a little bit more for show than actual use, now days.]

[dogsanddaughters]

[Whoops, made a blunder there. Miriam beams, because if she smiles then it'll all be fine, right?] No? That's okay! I don't like 'em either. Go knives!

[tishinka]

[Irisa isn't sure how to respond to that so she remains quiet. Focusing more on their surroundings than Miriam, although the girl's presence is kept in mind. No immediate danger makes itself known, however. But neither are other people. She can see signs of them but that's it.]