dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #6

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Test Drive Meme #6

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!]

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[Monsters aren't new. Monsters are regrettably familiar, and avoiding monsters is becoming second nature, considering Adam's general lack of ability when it comes to fighting them. There are plenty of other people much better at that than him, and it's much smarter to leave it to them.

He didn't see the monster, but he knows better than to doubt. All that would accomplish would be to get him - both of them - eaten. And it's clear enough that that's what must be there, if someone is running from it.

But it's who that's running from it that stops him, for a moment. Just a moment, though, before he's turning to run with her, because this is a conversation that can happen while they're on the move. Better than getting killed.]

Blue? When did you get here?

[ Arya shudders at the touch, but she doesn't pull away. She's wanted to see her family, any member of her family, for so long. Now that's it's happening, Arya doesn't know what to do or how to respond.

She's chewing her lip again. Arya stops that, wishing she could kick the habit already. She takes a deep breath, figuring the only thing she can do right now is answer Sansa's questions as best she can. ]

I had to stop --

[ Arya's breath hitches, but after a moment, she keeps on going. ]

I couldn't be her anymore. Her name is no longer mine.

[ Steve's words were yet another surprise, one that pierces something soft inside Arya. She pulls away, and the change in her tone, her body language, is immediate. Steve must have been gone a long, long time, or she was never important enough for him to remember. She now holds herself stiff, guarded, and the twinkle in her eyes is gone, replaced by something hollowly focused. She stops being vulnerable and slips back into Arya the badass, Arya the assassin. ]

We met once before in this place, but I see it meant very little to you.

[Damn, the Winter Soldier had gotten ugly. Some of the refined deadly lines seemed lost in the translation of this weight loss and the cloudiness of the weapon's eyes. It was clear that the Soldier was blind, which was a damn shame, but super-soldiers tended to weather anything and find the target regardless as far as he had read. The Soldier was built to succeed.

There was something wholly inhuman about it now. This wasn't just about a lack of proper diet from where he was standing. He continued to grip the nozzle of the flame thrower, though the headpiece was aimed towards the floor.]

Provide details as to your last mission objectives.

[Blue probably should have expected Noah, actually. Mind, he wasn't responsible for these, but that was only because he had no idea she was here.

Turning to the sound of the familiar voice asking the question, Noah just kind of ... stares.

He probably wouldn't warrant instant recognition. Noah was an unchanging thing back in Henrietta. Here his hair has a few months of growth to it (a semi-meticulous mess of bedhead), there's no smudge, and instead of the Aglionby sweater he has a Beastie Boys t-shirt of all things.

But it's Blue. It's Blue. Oh, Noah feels a bit of guilt for wanting her to be here so badly because really no one deserves to deal with murdercave and all but It's Blue kind of overrides all else.]

Blue!

[And she will be getting a hug.]

[It was getting very hard to think past the overwhelming desire to kill the man in front of him, and the soldier twitched, his breaths heavy. Words were hard to get out.]

Targets... Jasper Sitwell, Natasha Romanov, Steve... Steve Rogers. Eliminate or provide means for STRIKE to eliminate or take in. Sitwell... killed. Pulled here before other objectives could be met.

[Talking about killing was making it worse. He could smell Rumlow, hear every breath he took. It would be so easy to just rush him and tear him limb from limb...]

[ Chekov hasn't been able to make contact with the Enterprise, with Starfleet, with anyone since he arrived here. He's not even sure where "here" is. It's obviously a cave of some sort, and the city feels distinctly alien. But it's also a little creepy. There's something off about the light, and why hasn't he seen anyone else here?

There's nothing for Chekov to do but explore. He maps the place in his head, searching for life, for clues. The boy wearing what looks like a costume from ancient times is an unexpected, but welcome, surprise. Chekov returns the smile, happy to see someone else at last. ]

Hello. My name is Chekov. [ He says, gently. The boy seems shy. Chekov's voice is genuinely friendly, with a thick Russian accent coloring his words. ] Do you live here?

[ Honestly, it makes her much happier to see Cole than it does to see the flowers. She's never been one much for sentiment, but he seems... lost in thought as she approaches, and not necessarily in a bad way. For a moment, it seems as if he's conflicted about something, and she frowns curiously. ]

Cole? [ The Inquisitor questions gently, offering a faint smile. He knows she's never been very good with gestures (he seems to know everything about everyone), but let it never be said that it's for lack of trying. Taking a decisive sort of breath, Cecily picks through the carnations that had somehow materialized on her person, not stopping to question how they'd gotten there. With all of Hadriel's many unpleasant surprises thus far, it's almost refreshing to find something non-lethal suddenly cropping up in their temporary home.

It occurs to her that they could be poison, but she also firmly believes that Cole would know already if they were. ]

Is everything all right? [ She asks, looking from his bundle of carnations to his expression. Then, she rifles through the few in her own hands and picks out a bright, yellow flower, offering it to him with a look that suggests I'm trying. ]

For you. [ A beat, and she clears her throat. ] I wouldn't know what to do with all of them, and you deserve-

[ What? A flower? A break? She shakes her head, assuming he knows she means, but then mentally chastises herself and tries anyway. ]

A gift. [ She settles. ]

[ She's been learning her way around. Noticing that people are sticking together to keep tight-knit groups, or isolating themselves to stay hidden with purpose. The latter are the oddly familiar ones; If you don't catch them while they're learning what they can do, they get good enough to hide in plain view. And then they start hunting.

Cibo almost missed this one entirely and the way he moves— the way he looks around. Searching for something. Her best bet is to act unaware of her new shadow. Because she knows that when she walks at street level, it's more difficult not to see from a distance. She's still taller than most men, at 6'5". Agile as she is in her black catsuit, white hair and long legs do well to make her stand out in a crowd, let alone in the middle of the street.

Little sheep doesn't see you, wolf. Come get her. ]

[It's a blue carnation that she tosses to the ground, not only because she agrees with the advice, but also because she's not overly fond of the color.]

What's the point of them?

[ Technically the extent of her knowledge on anything related to botany is strictly book-smart. She knows what he's holding is a beautiful plant of sorts, but she's never had the pleasure of seeing one for herself before. Of course she's going to detour from whatever she was doing to approach him. ]

Are those... flowers?

[ Not judging, bro. Just astonished. Mesmerized, even. ]

Rage
These creatures were easy enough to distract, a little flash and bang somewhere far from him and he'd been able to dodge them fairly successfully, it wasn't like he was looking for a fight, he liked his person intact as it was.

Unfortunately for that sense of self preservation, he was still a healer and if he didn't at least try to heal one person, he wouldn't be able to live with himself or look his cat in the eye.

Hope had said something about his alter being the key, so that was where Anders put himself, standing near enough he might be able to lure one to him and get them on the alter without risking life and limb to wrangle the monsters themselves. Well, he was actually risking life and limb just to try this, but at least that would only be because his magic didn't work and not because he was trying to get a chance to make it work in the first place.

He waited until he could hear one or, well, someone passing by the doorway to call out and hopefully entice the creatures over. "Gee, it sure would be terrible if something tall and ugly happened to be passing by right now and wanted to oh, I don't know, eat me or something. Awful, really, eating with someone is always nice, but not as much when you're the meal." Good thing talking while nervous was easy for him, hopefully the sound would do it's job. And once the thing was in sight, all he had to do was wave his arms around, maybe dance, something to draw it's attention to where he was. Fool-proof plan.

Hope
He didn't know what the flowers where or where they'd even come from, but he'd found them near him and they had his name on them so, ostensibly, they were his. For some reason.

That said, he didn't rightly want them, so shoving them off on someone else seemed like the best course of action. Who didn't like flowers, after all? Even...if they were from a complete stranger who certainly didn't look his best in his bedraggled robes. But a smile and charm often smoothed most things over, so that was what he wore as he approached the next person he found who seemed like they could use some flowers.

"Hopefully this isn't the strangest thing to ever happen to you, but would you care for some flowers? I don't need them or even know what they are, but it seems a waste to toss them." The smile dimmed a bit as he realized once more the flowers bore his name proudly and that it might send a message Anders didn't intend. "And, well, disregard the name on them, I swear I mean nothing by them. I mean-not that I'm sure you aren't a nice person and all, but...I'm not doing a good job of this and I'm rambling. Right. Look, flowers: yes or no?"

Edited 2016-02-20 20:15 (UTC)

[ Cashmere shrugs. she has not gotten quite that far into her conspiracy theory. ]

I don't know. I'd rather let someone else figure out if they're cursed or poisonous.

[ he looks up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice heavy with an accent he doesn't recognize. a brief thought flickers through his mind, wondering if the person it belongs to is from Thedas, or if he's from somewhere else. he seems friendly enough, and Cole can't feel any ill will from him. that's the most important part, he thinks. ]

It sounds like Yehkov when you say it. It bothers you sometimes, when people can't hear past it. They don't mean any harm.

[ just said idly, before he shakes his head. ] No, I don't live here. We're both lost. [ and he pulls a white carnation out of his bouquet, offering it to him and completely ignoring the tag. ] I'm Cole. I'm sorry you're lost.

Hmm... [No, they couldn't leave it to its own devices. Not unless they wanted it to make its way to the city, which is bad news bears for everyone involved.]

Well, stabbing at it certainly won't help. [She's seen what it did with that javelin.]

Perhaps a chemical reaction, or extreme temperature. Don't suppose you'd have anything like nitrogen up your sleeve, would you?

[Which is almost a joke, considering Pyrrha's attire. Rey herself could try flash burning, but she would have to get close enough.]

[ Chekov's brow furrows, but he doesn't say anything. Cole isn't wrong, but that's still not exactly a typical hello. Most people he's met don't bring up the accent right away, or if they do, it's always sideways, like 'oh, are you from Russia?' Coming from anyone else, Chekov would think they were assuming things, and he'd probably get a little irritated. But the way Cole says it, so matter-of-fact, sounds nothing like an assumption. It's like he truly knows, somehow. ]

Yes. [ he concedes. ] A little bit.

[ Chekov takes the flower and looks at the tag. That's not his name written on it. ] I am sorry you are as well, and thank you, but... [ how does he say this? ] The flower is not addressed to me.

rage

[if the wolf from centuries ago could see this, Bigby is absofuckinglutely sure that everything he would be doing right now would be met with the loudest, harshest bark of a laugh possible, before leading into equally vicious snarls of why do you care and good, let 'em see how it is. mind you, both are very valid points, even now. it's not an understatement to say that he knows what it's like to starve — it's a goddamn joke, is what it is. to reach a point where it feels like you're carrying a rock in your body, a dull weight that you can never quite feel but always know it's there, rattling and shaking with every painful breath that isn't spent sucking whatever you can swallow into your mouth, where even the idea of gnawing your own leg off looks promising because even the pain would distract you from that terrible phantom feeling in your empty gut. oh, he's felt it. and the cherry on this bad taste sundae is that humans have always been his preferred way of sating it. every time.

an eternity ago, this would have been hilarious. and there's no reason why he should care even now, even here. he shouldn't care but he does, and as far as Bigby Wolf is concerned, there's no such thing as a wasted effort as long as he still has the strength to give it his all. currently, he's reached a fine point where he's willing to try anything.]

So from where I'm standing, you've got two options. [his voice is level and firm but there's a dangerously sharp edge to it.] You can either get your ass up on that altar on your own two feet, or I can put you on it. With or without legs.

[your choice, dude.]

hope

[as far as consolation prizes go, this one isn't too bad. all considered, it could be something a little more cynical; a bag filled to the brim with shit, for one — a helpful little reminder that he doesn't have a paddle on whatever nasty little creek he's found himself floating up. the worst thing Bigby can say about the tiny bouquet of freshly cut carnations he's found himself clutching is that they smell a little too nice. a little too sweet. his nose isn't used to these kinds of smells anymore because the closest he's come to touching nature these days has been the brief, sporadic occasions where he's had to go past Central Park, a place filled with too much life, strangled as it is through the heavy layers of smog and sweat and filth the city belches out. just holding these flowers is like having his nose shoved into one of those little potpourri jars that have a way of showing up in the Woodlands every so often.

(and they're white — white! — because while he was in the market for a particularly awful visual pun, what he wasn't expecting was something in the category of "objectively revolting"; any doubts he may have had about the intentions of the sender are immediately squashed like a bug the moment he takes a look at the card attached to them, signed anonymously of course.)

secret admirer. Bigby reads the card again, slowly, his nose wrinkling up slightly as he continues to hold the flowers.]

Can't imagine who that'd be. [really, if they wanted to find the way to his heart, they could've given him another lighter because his is already out of fluid.]

Edited 2016-02-20 21:31 (UTC)

[ Cole's face brightens immediately upon seeing the Inquisitor. she is a friend, and a welcome ally in any battle; coincidentally (or not so coincidentally at all, really) she's one of the first people he'd want to give one of the flowers to. he nods in response to the question. ]

Everything is fine. I was just thinking about flowers. There are so many, and they mean so many different things. Can mean, to some people. Others are just happy to get them.

[ it's always puzzled him. why give a gift that will wilt in a couple of days? he'd never considered before that it isn't quite the flower that matters, but the thought behind it. now he can feel it, now he knows —

Cole's smile grows a touch wider at the yellow one he's offered. he knows there's a whole language of flowers, depending on the kind of flower and the color; it seems over complicated and even stranger than giving away dying plants, but he recalls overhearing a florist once, scolding a man on a bouquet for his sweetheart. yellow had been a bad choice. disappointment, rejection. only if you want her to kick you to the curb! the florist had said.

he won't do that, though. he knows she means well, and her words only support the fact. he pulls a light red one from his hand, leaning to tuck it into her hair before taking the yellow. ]

Thank you. [ and there's a quiet hum. ] It means what you want it to mean, even if it's wrong. This one can mean "friend".

fear.
[ Is that moving gelatin? Yup, it's moving gelatin. Chekov doesn't really know what to make of it. This place seemed like an average ruined city (as if there was a typical way for a city to fall into destruction and disrepair), but now, Chekov isn't so sure.

Not only is the gelatin moving -- it's alive, too. Chekov graduated the top of his class at Starfleet Academy. He'd remember learning about a creature like this. But no textbook, no simulation, ever prepared him for sentient goop. Chekov shields himself behind a building, staring at the blob with a mixture of delight, surprise, and a healthy dose of fear. The thing looks hungry.

He's tried to radio back to the Enterprise, but there's been no response. And that, out of anything, has been the most worrying so far.

Maybe the person beside him knows what's up. ]

Excuse me? Are you from here? Do you know what zat is?

hope.
[ The flowers are beautiful and everything...but Chekov doesn't really know what to do with them. Right now he's just staring at them, face flushed. A secret admirer? Him? Chekov has always been popular with the ladies -- or at least, he likes to think he is -- but never popular on the secret admirer level. He'd expect that from the captain, but Chekov was always too endearing, too babyfaced, to be someone's secret love. Secret little brother, maybe, but not much more.

But now he's got a whole bunch of them in a wide array of colors. He knows the colors are supposed to mean something, but he can't remember what. Chekov was the sort of person to be fascinated by the symmetry of a flower, not its color.

In the center of the bunch, there's a single flower addressed to a certain Hikaru Sulu. ]

Is this a joke?

[ Chekov exclaims, his accent even thicker when he's distressed. He didn't buy or address this flower. So who did? ]

[They have that much in common - being used to threats of all shapes and sizes, though Steve's also never confronted one shaped like that before. If it can be considered a shape at all.

He checks on the blob once he's on the roof, before turning in the other directions, looking for more of the things or anyone who's being threatened by them. Steve finally turns to Maketh, giving her a nod to silently thank her.]

No, I'm fine. Are you the military here?

Yeah?

[Steve arches a brow at that. But it's not really a surprise. He's a sniper, always has been. Seeing things before they see him is his job.]

Run into any trouble? I was chased by jell-o the other day. I haven't had that since I was a kid, now I remember why.

Yeah. I think.

[Steve looks down at them again like he's double-checking. Flowers aren't a real big mystery to him, but why a bunch of them would suddenly be in his hand just makes him question everything.]

They're carnations. I recognize them from the old evaporated milk cans.

No, I think it might be something else.

[Steve sees the way she changes. The happiness that made her face so bright just seconds ago is gone as suddenly as if she'd put on a mask. But he knows there's disappointment there, hurt, and suspicion of her own.]

I've never met anyone who meant very little to me.

[That's not how Steve works, and if she knew him, maybe she'll see some truth in his words to reconcile this stranger with the him that she knew.]

Will you tell me your name?

[Maketh raises an eyebrow.] You're new, then.

[Not that she expected otherwise, really. She keeps an eye on people and likes to know who they are, where they live, and what skills they have. In front of her is a new face. A stranger. Though one with useful skills, it appears.

Secretly she's pleased this man - whoever he is - assumed they have enough infrastructure in Hadriel to host a proper military in the first place. It's a work in progress. Maketh inclines her head towards the monster, making a slow trek in their direction. A very slow trek. So long as they aren't cornered, they'll be fine.]

Former Minister Maketh Tua, at your service.

[She doesn't salute him, though it would have been polite. Maketh smiles. It's a touch bitter.] I'm not from here, either.

Does everything always have to have a meaning? [ She poses dryly, no ill will meant for him, but for the unnecessary complications that seem to choke simple gestures these days. ] Can't you just five magical cave-flowers to people anymore?

[ There's a sideways sort of smile. Then, when he leans in and tucks it beneath her hair, she smiles more softly, ducks her chin a bit to make it easier. ]

Thank you. [ Cecily offers, straightening, with the body of the flower heavy in her hair. ] And, I'm... glad it can mean 'friend.' I'd like for it to.

[ Maker. He's absurdly better with language than she is, even when he's being mysterious. She sighs shortly, again adopting a slightly weary grin. ]

And what is this one, then? [ The Inquisitor asks, tilting her head slightly to feature the carnation he'd left there. ]

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Test Drive Meme #6

fear

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Hope

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rage

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hope

Anders | Dragon Age: Awakening

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bigby wolf (the wolf among us)

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pavel chekov | star trek

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