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]

[He frowns a little at "special guy," but otherwise doesn't comment. It's more apt to say that he's enjoying a flower massacre, which he exhibits by looking down at the remaining flower in his hand and crushing it in his metal hand.]

There's no point to them.

[ethicalproblems]

[Observing minute facial expressions isn’t part of his skill set, so the frown goes unnoticed amidst the general scowly-ness. Also, it's really hard not to ask about the arm when it's used like that.]

No disagreement here. [He points to his own handful of flowers for emphasis.] Did those ones have name tags too, or am I just the designated delivery guy? Because, I've gotta say, kind of a step down the employment ladder.

[wipedclean]

[He glances back up at the man and shrugs a little.]

They did.

[He nods to a crumpled piece of paper on the ground, which just goes to show how much he thinks of the whole thing. But he looks up, brow furrowed.]

"Delivery guy?"

[Please don't tell him those flowers are for him. He really doesn't want any more flowers.]

[ethicalproblems]

[Why not? Think of the beautiful plant destruction that could be wrought.]

Right, the tags. I assume we’re supposed to find these people and, well, deliver. Like a weirder version of elementary school Valentines. [Yeah, Topher. Because this guy totally looks like he had a normal education.] None of them are addressed to ‘dude with metal arm’, if that makes you feel better.

[For all he knows, they could be meant for this guy. It’s not like they’ve exchanged names yet.]

[wipedclean]

[He looks a little confused at that. His flowers were addressed to him.

Well, they were addressed to Bucky or James, a person who he apparently used to be, so he assumed they were meant for him, regardless of who he was now.]

That's not how mine were addressed.

[ethicalproblems]

Aww, really? So they were just for you? That’s both less exciting and makes way more sense. Mine are just random names. [None of them are his, at least. Which makes it even more accurate to the childhood rituals mentioned before.]

This place must like you more. [That, or it really wants him to make friends.] Yay?

[wipedclean]

[He snorts.]

Or it's making a bad joke.

[Because like hell would anyone send him flowers. Nor should they.]

[ethicalproblems]

Also an option. Seems like the bottom of the barrel, but who knows with the shadowy powers that be. This could be the pinnacle of humor. [He snaps his fingers suddenly.] Oh, oh, another guess! [Drumroll, please.] Secret admirer?

[wipedclean]

[He growls a little and looks away. He doesn't know which is worse, "secret admirers" or knowing exactly who supposedly sent him flowers.]

It doesn't matter.

[ethicalproblems]

[The growling should be frightening, but...dude, it’s over flowers and potential secret admirers. It’s a little funny.]

Not anymore, at least. [He gestures at the pile formally known as plant life.] I’m Topher, by the way. Which also doesn’t matter, but since we’re both stuck here, might as well be...neighborly?

[wipedclean]

[It's ridiculous and the soldier doesn't want to have anything to do with it. But he's being petulant, like a child, and he sits back when the man introduces himself.]

Hello.

[There, he's being neighborly.]

[ethicalproblems]

[Very neighbor. Much bonding. Sure, this is usually where the other person would give their name in turn, but honestly Topher doesn’t care much about social traditions on the best of days. So, it all works out.]

Great. You know my name, I know about your propensity for violence against nature. That’s...better than nothing. [Oh, hell with it. He’s restrained himself long enough.] Can I ask you something -- about the arm?

[He’s asking permission before jumping into the question. That's like a whole new layer of empathy.]

[wipedclean]

[The soldier shrugs.]

You can ask.

[Doesn't necessarily mean he'll answer, but whatever.]

[ethicalproblems]

Really? [That actually works? Who knew!] Right, okay then. First question. What’s it made of?

[Before an answer can come, he adds.] Uh, don’t say metal. I mean the nitty-gritty specifics. Because prosthetics may not be my science of choice, but I’m usually in the loop. And I don’t remember seeing that in Medscape recently. Or ever.

[wipedclean]

[He looks down at his arm and then shrugs again.]

I don't know.

[They didn't give him any information about the arm. It's not his place to know. They handle the upkeep, as part of their maintenance of their weapon. Him.]

[ethicalproblems]

[Disappointing, yet oddly unsurprising. He waves it off.] Metal it is! I’m guessing you wouldn’t have an owner’s manual laying around, either. That'd be too easy. [There’s some condescension bleeding into his tone. It’s not intentional, but talking to this guy is like talking to a doll. A doll with a little pinch of anger mixed into the blank slate cocktail.]

What about the functionality? Are we talking the Six Million Dollar Man, or…?

[wipedclean]

[He doesn't appreciate this man's tone. He's not HYDRA, he's not a handler or a technician, so he doesn't have to put up with him. The soldier stands, crosses to a tree, and wraps his metal hand around a sturdy branch.

Then he rips it off.]

[ethicalproblems]

[Slightly intimidating? Sure. But more importantly, completely awesome. Topher takes a moment to appreciate the sight. ]

Wow. [He laughs.] Nice party trick. It’s no Terminator, but...it's pretty close. So, how'd you get it? Secret government contract? Oh, or a golden ticket?

[wipedclean]

[He considers the man. HYDRA's a secret organization, so he obviously won't tell him about it. He seems like the type of person to draw his own conclusions no matter what the soldier tells him.]

Can't say.

[He can guess all he wants. If he gets too close to the truth, the soldier will kill him. That's all there is to it.]

[ethicalproblems]

[The non-answer does help with the conclusion drawing. Probably closer to option A, which isn’t exactly shocking. What government doesn’t have a ~dark~ secret? Scratch that. What organization ran by human beings doesn’t?]

Forget I asked. Your secrets are yours to keep, metal-man. I'll shelve the origin story of the bionic arm up with your name.

[He actually means that. It’s not like he can’t understand wanting to keep things - like for instance, tech - under wraps. Even if they are really, really awesome.]

[wipedclean]

[It's actually something of a surprise that the man leaves it alone. The soldier was expecting further prying. Or was he hoping for it? It doesn't really matter. The matter's left alone, and that's a good thing.]

Good.

[ethicalproblems]

[It’s possible that he’s learned a thing or two about letting things lie. That, or the sheer amount of hypocrisy managed to sink in. Neither of which is going to stop him for very long.]

Wait, wait. Back up a minute. Is the name seriously confidential too? Because that was kind of supposed to be a joke. [Which was a miscalculation. Since that usually works better on people with a quantifiable sense of humor.]

[wipedclean]

[He hesitates, but honestly this part isn't a secret as much. If he's forced to be here, and people are interacting with him, then... well. It can't be helped. He could make up a name, but it feels... like a breach of protocol, in some way.]

I don't have one.

[ethicalproblems]

[Oh. Oh. Suddenly the Doll comparison snaps back into place in the worst way. The seeds were there before, but this? Way closer to home. There's a stark difference between a guy who's not all there, and one who's completely depersonalized. If anyone would know that...]

You don’t have one. [He smiles, less comfortably than before.] Not even a cool code name? Because, you do seem like the Renegade type.

[wipedclean]

["Asset" and "Winter Soldier" don't exactly count as code names, he thinks. The first is more a designation, and the second is just what people call the ghost he occupies in history. So he shakes his head.]

Nothing.

[It doesn't bother him. It's just part of what he is.]