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

fear

[mismanagement]

Up here!

[Under normal circumstances, Maketh isn't the sort to wander straight into the front-lines. Not without an escort of heavily armed troopers, that is. But circumstances have changed, she's no longer who she was, and needs must.

Unfortunately, the only thing she has for a weapon is the sword at her hip, and that hardly seems like it's going to make a dent on Hadriel's newest monstrosity.

On the plus side, the monsters don't seem capable of climbing very high.

Maketh has positioned herself on the low roof of an abandoned store, next to a conveniently placed rubble pile. One of the possible sniper posts she'd marked out a few days earlier, though it works for this purpose as well. She narrows her eyes, one hand on her hip, hunting jacket zipped up to her throat. What she wears resembles no military uniform that's ever been inspected, but she wears it like one just the same, edges ironed to sharp points.]

Soldier, move your ass!

[She barks it, a hard order. She's in no position to jump down and save this man, whoever he is with that strange uniform - and shield, what the hell - but no one, no one will be dying on her watch today. Hopefully he's fast enough to survive.]

[starspangled]

[Finally, someone who speaks his language. Steve looks up at the sound of her voice and notes several things at once, from her position to the uniform. It's a good vantage point too, and all Steve has to do is make it there before the blob catches up to him.

Which isn't happening today. It might reach his heels, but that's when Steve propels himself forward, boots barely touching down on top of the rubble pile before he makes one more jump to the roof. Steve hurries to her side to look over the roof's edge, not nearly as out of breath as he should be.]

Think it can make it up the same way?

[mismanagement]

[Oh. Well. Maketh raises an eyebrow, but doesn't take a step back like her instincts want to. This man is different, that's certain. Perhaps a force-user? She's seen the Inquisitor make jumps even more impressive than that.

Hopefully this one is less likely to go for her throat than the Inquisitor currently is, though.

Hadriel brings all kinds, it appears.

Maketh peers over the edge. The monster is still a little ways off, not yet close enough to make her worried.] Not quickly.

[She can guide him somewhere safer before the monster can kill them both. Therefore the threat is minimal.

Maketh tends to take these things in stride. People trying to kill her isn't new. Though this is the first time she's experienced....

Whatever the hell that is.

She clasps her hands smartly behind her back, standing at attention.] Not injured, are you?

[starspangled]

[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?

[mismanagement]

[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.

[starspangled]

Steve Rogers. How long have you been here?

[He has a million questions, which is probably to be expected. But she tells him that she's not from this place either, so Steve doesn't expect her to have the answers for all of them. But even if she doesn't, maybe she'll know someone who does.]

Is this the kind of thing that happens often?

[He nods back in the direction of the blob. He's tempted to let his shield bring down something in front of it, effectively cutting it off. But he did just arrived. Maybe he should go easy on the collateral damage.]

[mismanagement]

About a month now.

[And what a grand, horrible time it had been. Well, not all of it had been bad. She's met some interesting people, made a few allies, and possibly started a war. At least she's not dead or in prison for treason. Maketh is very aware of what she'd be back home.

Here, at least, there are options.]

Quite often. The things in charge here, they feed off of emotion.

[Maketh's face tightens.] The so called gods. Apparently they buried people alive once. That was before I got here, though.

[She gives him a little grin, a touch too mean for it to be comforting.] You just missed the wendigos. Do be careful with the rations around here, the gods like to add things to them.

[starspangled]

[He has that little valley between his eyebrows, the one he gets when he's thoughtful or concerned. Right now he's both - although there is something about having something or someone to fight that will always be an odd comfort to him. It's the soldier in him, the one thing he has when he has nothing else, neither home nor happiness.


They've only just met, but Steve takes her warnings seriously, storing that little bit of info about emotion in the back of his mind. It's a problem if it's true - Steve keeps a lot of his under wraps, but humans in general aren't exactly lacking in that department. It's one thing that makes them human in the first place.]

Sorry I missed it. [Dry. He's not sure what a wendigo is, but he gets the feeling he wouldn't like it.] These gods...any of them on our side?

[mismanagement]

Believe me, you're not.

[Unwitting cannibalism aside - which Maketh is not thinking about, it might have been the worst thing that ever happened to her. Certainly nothing in her training had prepared her for the reality of watching her nails shift into claws, or feel that bone-deep ache with the need to eat. The way she'd looked at people and wanted to smash their heads open with a rock.

No, Steve Rogers would not have missed that.]

One of them, Hope, likes to claim he is.

[Maketh shrugs. Wherever Steve Rogers came from and what that world made him, he's been reasonable so far. Clear headed. Military. She appreciates the simplicity of that, knows it well enough to use it.]

Rage provided us an armory of outdated weapons.

[She continues, face suddenly cool. It's not personal, she's a professional, she will give her report.] I've not seen Fear in person yet.

[Though she very much intends to destroy him, somehow. Maketh inclines her head to Steve politely.] And you'll find death isn't permanent here. Most interesting, that.

[starspangled]

The god's name is Hope?

[That seems...convenient. Still, he has enough experience with gods to know that they're not all bad. They're a lot like regular people, just with a meaner swing.]

I've got the only weapon I need. [Steve glances down to his shield, which by definition isn't a weapon at all, but he knows how to be creative. And he's sensing a theme with these Gods. Just going by the names alone, Rage is the first one that worries him. But he knows that fear can be just as dangerous.

He huffs softly at that last bit of information and gives her a slight smile.]

It's not always permanent where I'm from either.

[In its own way. Steve should be dead. He thought Bucky was too.]

Did you find out from personal experience?

[mismanagement]

So he says. But it's a simple matter, to give someone a name and expect it to mean something.

[Like naming yourself a god in the first place, really.

Not that she has a better term to give Steve at the moment. Just what has been said before.

That shield must be more versatile than it looks, Maketh thinks. Though it's not the strangest weapon she's come across. If someone with a sword can stand against a gunship and win, then surely a shield can serve a similar function. Either way, Steve isn't carrying a blaster. That means he's confident enough just with the shield. He doesn't strike Maketh as a stupid man, therefore he's skilled and she's been given no reason to doubt him yet.]


Really? [She sounds vaguely interested in that, watching him curiously.] There are rumors of it in my home, but they are almost always tricks of some kind.

[Hoaxes for some greater end.

It is not the case here. Maketh tightens her jaw.] Yes. An act I don't intend to repeat.