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

bigby wolf (the wolf among us)

[glasshim]

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.]

hope

[watashinonamaewa]

I'm glad I'm not the only one who got one of these things.

[ New face to the city walking up behind Bigby, more noticeably are her legs-for-days making her a healthy six-five tall. She smells like metal and blood, something a little less than human. A hint of lavender from the bouquet in her hands, accompanied with note. Cheeks flustered from a recent emotional stimuli. ]

I'm sure someone was just thinking of you. That's the sentiment of flowers, right?

[ A shrug. She really doesn't know. Gift giving isn't her forte. ]

[glasshim]

Was kinda hoping it would be a one-off type of deal. [the words tumble out of his mouth before he can get a hold on them. his shoulders roll upwards in the barest hint of a shrug.] I can deal with the misery; just not the company.

[not that he'd really go so far as to call this miserable, but it IS concerning that others are getting these too. if it's a message, it's a strange one. and if it's a threat, it's downright stupid. either be blunt or go home. passive aggressive tip-toeing was never something he could get behind.]

Not necessarily. That would depend on the occasion, and who they're from. [easy and light, but honest. the woman's scent is...strange. she smells like violence, like wet copper and steel, but there's something alien underneath it that he can't quite pinpoint. best just to keep things neutral until he can get a better read on her.] Did yours come with a note too?

[watashinonamaewa]

[ He seems a little standoffish. She's not at all unfamiliar with this exact type. Except the flowers would definitely be out of character if they were from who she imagined they were from. ]

Mm. [ A nod. She hasn't bothered taking the note off the flowers yet. Something about the combination of the two is pleasant for her. And when she looks down to it with strange blue eyes, she stares for a long moment to admire it. ] From a friend, I think. [ When she looks back up to him, she smiles modestly. Talking to him feels familiar. ]

I can't tell if you just don't like not knowing who did it. Or maybe just... you hate the whole thing?

[glasshim]

[he'd like to hold out hoping that his are from— well, someone who would go through the trouble to see him happy, in an ideal world. what he really wants to tell her is that anyone who could possibly have him on their mind but can't work up enough nerve to sign their name or, hell, even initial the card might not be thinking very good things about him. it's not even a matter of pessimism; it's experience, plain and simple.]

They must have good taste. [—said as he notes the lavender peeking out from her bouquet. it's a gentle color that comforts him far more than it should, and he has no idea why. it reminds him of quiet evenings where the voice of the city is faint and the night is long.]

Is there a rule that says it can't be both?

[watashinonamaewa]

I suppose there's not.

[ She takes another look at her flowers to pluck the card out, as if she had the intention to do something with them. ]

You know, I'd never seen flowers before this. Neither has my friend— At least I don't think he has. We don't come from the kind of place they belong. If he did send them, then I think I know why he did. I'm sure it's going to sound weird to say it out loud.

[ Cibo watches him, admittedly a little awkwardly. As if she were trying to read him, figure out his story. Something about him didn't feel human. Of course, she wasn't either and he could probably already sense that too. The fact she wasn't sure about him and she couldn't tell right away drives her crazy. ]

[glasshim]

[and he's aware that he's being watched, a little uncomfortably so. it's always interesting when the tables are turned on him like this because it becomes a conscious effort to be inconspicuous. he's been hiding in plain sight for so long that it's become second nature to him; being aware of it is like focusing on manually breathing — it's surreal, unpleasant. all he can do to alleviate the pressure is hold onto the immaturely vindictive hope that she's going as crazy as he is trying to figure out what she's looking at.]

Weirder than being a cave filled with monsters? I dunno about that. [he scratches the side of his jaw, tilting his head as he considers her.] I think my tolerance for weird is through the roof by now. You should try me anyway.

[and deep down, a little part of him wishes that she's another Fable. that he isn't alone in yet another world he's a stranger in.]

[watashinonamaewa]

Oh, not just a cave with monsters. An underground labyrinth with monsters and flesh eating parasites and man-hunting robots.

[ She smiles as if that were only a pleasant teaser to her lifestyle. Her stories could definitely try him all night if he enticed it.

[ Instead she shifts her head to a shoulder to mirror his consideration subtly. ]

Maybe I should save my horror story for later though? I think... you might have other questions for me?

[ Then again, she's not good at guessing. He just looks uncomfortable for some reason. ]

( HOPE ) what a great username

[dreamcatcher]

( there are times in her life where she really wonders if she's pushing the limits of distrust. staring at the small bunch of flowers in her hand like they're set to explode might be a little over the top. so yeah, this place was crafty and dangerous and probably some kind of test or curse, because of course it was. did that really mean that these perfectly respectable yellow carnations in her hand were secret murder traps?

probably not. it didn't hurt to be careful anyway, though. she hated yellow carnations, too; whoever this 'secret admirer' was, they didn't know her taste at all. (a taste that generally demanded no flowers to begin with.)

Emma is tempted to throw them away, when she sees someone else puzzling over a bouquet of their own. clearly, sass is better than worrying about how her own flowers intend to murder her. ) Not a man that inspires many secret admirers? ( he's not horrible looking, and often times that's all a guy needs to get at least a few interested parties. )