Test Drive Meme #31

[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 April 24th, and apps are open May 1st. Please remember that there is an app cap of 20 apps.

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: WHAT BIG TEETH YOU HAVE
[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.

Even if the monster looks cuddly.

Direwolves are not quite what you medieval fantasy folks might think they are- they're untameable and almost the size of a bear. While usually a predator like the direwolf might wait for the opportune moment to strike, these beasts hunt in packs and are very, very hungry. You won't be able to tame them, and any attempts may result in a couple of missing fingers.]

S O R R O W

SCENARIO TWO: REGRETFULLY YOURS
[Have you ever done something you regret? A thought or an action you've performed that you look back on and wished you hadn't? Even if it's something outside of your control, something you couldn't have known, if there's something rattling around in that brain of yours, it's coming out in full force right now, leaving you guilt-ridden and prepared to confess all your sins to the nearest bystander.

But what if confessing isn't enough? You need to show them how sorry you are in any attempt at redemption you can muster. Work as hard as you can and maybe someone will forgive you. Work even harder and maybe someday you can forgive yourself.

This is a mini version of our Tears of Joy event this month.]

R A G E

SCENARIO THREE: TEAMWORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK
[The goal is simple: stay together in this room and use the supplies provided to build the best tower you can. You've got matchsticks, popsicle sticks, Q-tips, four different kinds of glue, and various little wheels and doodads. The team with the best tower at the end of the exercise gets a wish granted! That isn't so bad, is it?

Except your teammate is insufferable. Everything from their ideas, to their building strategy, down to their accent is absolutely intolerable to you. How can you be expected to work with such a difficult partner? If you leave the room your tower is forfeit, but who can expect you to stay in these conditions?

Careful- they're just as fed up with you as you are with them. Can the two of you overcome your mutual disdain to build this arts and crafts masterpiece, or will it be a race to the door?]

Comments

Ryn | Siren | will match format

[predatoryn]

• fear

In the water, you kill or you get killed. Despite what Helen and the others told her, to Ryn, it doesn't seem to be much different on land.

She looks small and slight, but she faces down a pack of direwolves with wide, wild eyes, a fierce gaze, and bared (very human) teeth, hissing and spitting at them. Ryn fights in darkness, against untild creatures. She may be at a disadvantage here on land, but she'll fight anyway. Even if she dies in the end. A predator's instinct is to fight.

You can try to help her (at your own risk), or maybe she takes down a direwolf you were scared of. In the latter case, she's not trying to help you. Her survival is paramount. She has to live and find her sister.



• rage

What does a mermaid know about teamwork with bipedal humanoids? Not much, it turns out.

If you try to help her, Ryn either hisses or snaps at you, a sharp "no" shot your way before she goes back to building a... very elaborate rendition of a ship.

What are you still doing at her table?

"Go!"

booker dewitt | bioshock infinite

[dewitticisms]

fear

What in the goddamn-

[ What the hell kind of mutt is allowed to be that big? Booker ain't ever met one and, frankly, he never wanted to but apparently this is happening. He throws down a few crow traps, loads up his shotgun and then fires a warning shot into the head of the nearest direwolf. It counts as a warning if the other ones reconsider whether or not they want to eat him, right?

One hand lit up through with fire he backs up toward the closest exit, casting eyes around. Gotta find Elizabeth, get out of here and have her open a rip to somewhere with less killer dogs. Until then when he moves up close to anyone else who looks to be struggling he'll lay down some covering fire. Either with bullets or actual literal fire. ]

Get for the nearest exit! I'll hold 'em off!


rage

[ Getting stuck with Booker as a partner is a case of supremely bad luck for anyone. His only reaction to being told making the best tower is a wish is a muttered "wishes don't just get granted" before he steals a match and uses it to light up a cigarette. You want that wish? You're either gonna have to make him help or just deal with the world's most unhelpful man sitting across from you using up all the matches.

Lucky, lucky you. ]

rage

[songburdened]

[ A wish granted. Elizabeth may be better-versed in Booker's - attitude than most anyone else, but that doesn't mean she'll allow him to lose them this chance. If there's any way that these gods can help her to accomplish her dream, then she's absolutely going to take it. Especially when what they ask is so small, so simple. Lucky that she has some experience in the creative, then.

And in bossing a certain ex-Pinkerton around. ]

Hand me those. [ There are still some matches out of her reach near the man himself, and she gestures impatiently for him to push them her way. Elizabeth is - predictably - building a matchstick replica of the Eiffel Tower, and so she'll need all of the matches that she can get to make its miniature as grand as the real thing. ]

suzanna (six) moon / original

[locations]

fear/ just know, that i've missed you so, so, so
( A challenging job with good pay, endless opportunity to do something interesting with all her skills. Of course Suzanna said yes.

And that's the last thing she remembers before waking up on the Colosseum floor, the hot breath of a direwolf all too close and sour for comfort. )

What the-- ( Sleepy tones quickly become shrill as she scrambles onto deadly looking heels and pulls the bag next to her to her chest. )

One, what the fuck!? This wasn't part of the deal what the fuck are you doing-

( The tirade is quickly cut off, however, when the animal shifts, growls, staring her down. )

Oh, crap.

( Those deadly looking heels? Yeah, not much good for trying to escape angry looking wolves. )

sorrow/ but it's a shame that i'm caught up in my own shit
( Damn. Everyone seems... really sad lately. It's kind of a bummer, even though Suzanna feels none of the regret that seems to consume everyone else.

So, in a stroke of - what she would call - genius, Suzanna slips onto the network with a conversation starter. )
ok saddos.
talk 2 🐜t suzie.
y u all sad?

sorrow

[disequilibrium]

[ Kylo is not so lucky when it comes to avoiding the city’s whims. Regret and conflict are familiar emotions, albeit ones he’s always been able to push aside in order to move forward, but now they cannot be ignored and the feeling of being torn apart is overwhelming. And useless. Even if atonement were a possibility there’s no amends to be made here, galaxies away from anyone he may have wronged.

As with most feelings beyond his control, it soon turns to anger. ]

What reason would anyone have to share that information?

Ianchus Cepheos | Original Character | will match format!

[vocarrah]

01 | Fear
Ianchus has fought beasts before, but he's never fought quite this many at once, nor alone. His shamshir is a formidable weapon, but the way he uses it is slow, and the small buckler on his other arm is less a proper defensive tool and more a sad distraction that creates enough of a delay for a hit--the whole thing can fit widthwise into a direwolf's maw, only barely keeping it open enough to save his arm.

He's holding his own but flagging. He does, however, mark anyone around him. If you're not a fighter, he'll cover your back, helping you escape, even at the risk of dividing his own attention. If you can, however, perhaps you could lend him a hand. The pauses between his cuts can spell trouble.

02 | Sorrow


"Are you alright?"

The voice you hear is soft, sweet, with the slightest tremble. The man it comes from is barely holding himself together. Ianchus is being choked by memories that he'd thought he'd either come to terms with or buried, and though he's smiling it's something that might shatter at any moment. And he's figuratively grasped for the nearest person--you--for two reasons. He doesn't want to be alone. And helping others, whether it's a fabrication or (please, God please) something real, distracts him from the guilt squeezing his own heart.

So. Are you alright? Let him do anything for you. Anything and everything.

03 | Rage


Ianchus is normally a patient man, one who adores other people. He's worked with many kinds, from all walks of life, of all personalities and persuasions. It's rare for something to get to him this badly, but at this point he thinks you're purposefully sabotaging this entire event.

His smile is frozen on his face, and his tone still has that sweet sound, but it's absolutely icy now.

"Why don't you leave it to me. You can take a rest."

He's hardly leaving any room for argument.

04 | Wildcard

Have at him however!

sorrow, with my deepest apologies for her

[unheeled]

"No."

Rita sniffles, paying no attention at all to the fact that the man speaking to her is also extremely sad.

"I... I wore brown boots with a black dress once." YEP. Yep. That's her biggest regret. "You can't-- you can't just forgive that!"

Kylo Ren | Star Wars

[disequilibrium]

F E A R

[ If there’s one trait which defines Kylo Ren—both in and out of combat—it is single-mindedness. This is no exception. He throws himself into melee with the creatures without concern for the larger situation, taking momentary catharsis in the violence and leaving questions of where and why to be dealt with afterward.

He matches the pack’s viciousness with his own feral brutality, cutting through one of them efficiently before swinging his lightsaber and going for the next target. As it starts to leap he raises one hand and pushes out with the Force, sending the animal careening back into the nearest wall.

Or, well. Any unlucky soul standing unknowingly in the wolf’s trajectory. Enjoy? ]

R A G E

[ Kylo Ren doesn’t play well with others. What a surprise.

Sure, at first it may seem alright. The looming man isn’t what you’d call friendly but he seems willing to try given the incentive. Then the signs of frustration start to show. A clenched fist, a brief roll of the eyes. All slight warning signs that may or may not prepare you for the moment when he sweeps an arm across the table, knocking aside the half-built project. ]

This isn’t working.

[ He speaks through gritted teeth, frustration unabated despite the previous display. ]

W I L D C A R D

[ ota ]

Why hello there <3 [Fear]

[prophesiedone]

[He has learned to use fear and anger to his advantage. He moves with a deadly grace, his lightsaber only a flashing light as he cuts through his opponents. With his free hand, he renders others useless by choking off their airway. If you're looking for mercy, you won't find it here.

Thankfully he knows Kylo - though it is likely he is not remembered. When he reaches the other man, he pauses to give him a nod of recognition.]

Welcome back.

Sanzang Fashi | Warriors Orochi | Will match format

[heavenly_sleeves]

Fear

[The woman standing in the middle of the colosseum doesn’t look like she’s prepared for any battle. She’s looking at the pack of large wolves in front of her with a hand covered in a long sleeve in front of her face and head tilted to the side curiously. She doesn’t seem particularly afraid, nor does she look like she’s going to try to pet the wolves.

Until she notices someone else in the snarling wolves range.]

Ah! Watch out!

[She jumps in front of the advancing wolves and swings her sleeves forcibly to the side. A gale of wind appears between her and the wolves, stopping their initial advance.]

Rage

[Sanzang was enjoying the creation of the tower. It was creative, and relaxing, even with the present company. She didn’t dislike them, but their lack of enthusiasm for the task made her pout.

She should have taken off her water sleeves before reaching to set a matchstick on the very top of their tower. The flowing fabric bumped into the bottom and caused the entire structure to collapse.

Again.]

Sorry! Sorry!

Wildcard
[OTA]

rage

[predatoryn]

Helen Hawkins once said that mermaids are more intelligent than humans. Ryn certainly acts that way, though it might look like she's the opposite of smart. She lacks enthusiasm, sure, because for her, this isn't a game to play for a prize. It's a test of her intelligence, one that could win her a chance to go back to Bristol Cove, and she is going to excell at it.

Or she would, if she could just work along. She glares at Sanzang when the tower is knocked down again, and hisses sharply at her.

"This not hard."

She clears the mess of matches and starts working again, one by one.

"You help," she tells Sanzang, glancing up now and then from the slow beginning of their project, "or you go. No ruin this, again."

...Ryn sounds harsh on a good day. Rage's influence isn't helping matters.

Boss | Saints Row

[ruletheworld]

FEAR

The circumstances being what they are her coherence is almost admirable. This is far from the first time Boss has found herself someplace entirely unfamiliar. It will be far from the last time, too. Luckily, she has plenty of experience with it. She picks herself off the floor with a few curses under her breath and takes account of the situation she's in.

Okay. What does she last remember? Party games. Sounds about right, and it explains a lot. What is she seeing?

Oh.

"Those are some big fuckin' dogs," is her immediate reaction to the dire wolves stalking the area. As if it's some weird joke that the person next to her will get... Or hopefully explain to her. Seriously, why's she packed in with a bunch of dogs? Is this an extreme version of pin the tail on the donkey? It's not funny.

"Good puppy..." Well, it's worth it to try some kind of diplomacy first as she tries to make her way around the nearest wolf. When it snarls and snaps at her, she figures that's out the window and just clocks it in the jaw.

RAGE

Without Pierce or Shaundi or Kinzie or -- Alright, pretty much the entire gang -- here to put forth some kind of plan? Boss is completely lost... Something that frustrates her to no end. See, she's not a very technical thinker, so when the task is 'build a tower?' With some fucking 3rd grade art supplies? She immediately just starts gluing shit end to end and trying to make it stand up. Bigger is better, right?

Except that she can't get it to stand, so every few seconds is punctuated by loud cursing as she smashes the 'tower' down, punches the wall, and starts over. Good luck.

rage

[garbageprincess]

Nia is, generally speaking, a kind person, but she can't at all stand the way Boss works.

"We'll never build a tower if you keep destroying it." And they have to build one. They have to win! Nia wants to go home to Simon and the others. "Start with a sturdy foundation. Popsicle sticks are good for that. I'll glue them together."

Even though she'd rather do this herself.

vaas montenegro | far cry 3

[vaashole]

RAGE

[ Congrats, you have literally the worst goddamn partner imaginable.

It's not that Vaas doesn't understand the concept of what he's supposed to be working for here - a wish, whatever, from the fakey-magic gods, it's probably great. The thing is, there's nothing he wants that he doesn't already have waiting for him back on his island, and money means nothing in this place, so there's honestly no incentive to cooperate.

He will, however, stay in the room to piss off whoever else is in the room. It's worth a laugh, and because he's been in a mood ever since he walked in this room, it's the slightly preferable alternative to digging their eyes out with his thumbs. ]

Hey, hermano. [ It comes after a solid thirty minutes of ignoring his partner, responding to any questions or comments with I'm busy or fuck off or absent waves of his hand as he messes with something or other. A phone? Has he been taking selfies this entire time? ] Got a light?

[ Yep, just... gonna pick the most important match out of the entire structure and rip it out, probably bringing the whole thing crashing down. ]

Thanks, amigo.

[ Now he's lighting a fat cigar with it. THIS BITCH. ]

[ruletheworld]

[ While Boss isn't exactly the optimistic type, the idea of someone in power owing her a favor is tantalizing. It's just worth it - Even if she doesn't 'win,' she can see who does... And jack the wish from them.

She just didn't expect it to be so god damn frustrating. Sure, she may only be half hearted about the way she glues the crafts together, but at least she's still trying.

Meanwhile, her partner's fucked off to play with his phone. Fine, she can do the whole thing herself. She really has no problem with that.

What she does have a problem with is the sudden interest in what she's doing, and then the casual way he tears everything down. ]

The fuck? [ Boss has turned on her heel in an instant, facing Vaas with her fists balled. Would punching him count against the teamwork thing? ]

You got five seconds to share or start picking shit up. Your choice.

dr. avisheh razi ( original ) ota ; will match format

[unnature]

FEAR

Easy now, good doggie...

[Avisheh doesn't exactly have the most experience staring down beasts. There were wolves around Tirazis, sure, but they knew better than to venture into the city, and as a child she wouldn't dare wander away from civilization on her own. The Nexus, meanwhile, didn't exactly have much wildlife to speak of.

Though who knew how long that would last, based on what she's gleaned from the news.

That's beside the point, though. This "good doggie" is easily bigger than her, and Avisheh doesn't exactly have a weapon to speak of, other than the cane she carries. Which, you know, isn't exactly a sword cane or anything. She's not sure why she didn't spring for the sword cane option, honestly. Imagine the possibilities.

At least her advanced prosthetics, black metal and plastic on both legs, allow her to back away pretty easily while holding the cane defensively. The cane's mostly just so she won't fall, unsteady on her feet as she is.

But, yeah. Yikes. This is certainly a situation. She thinks moving slowly might be better than attempting to run, disadvantaged in the situation as she might be. But, uh, now she just feels kinda stuck.]

Anyone with a gun wanna switch places? [she calls out to no one in particular, trying to keep her voice from startling the wolf into action.]

SORROW

[Dr. Razi isn't exactly the type of person to have regrets. Sure, she's made a lot of mistakes. A lot of them. But she doesn't exactly express any shame about them. She's made her peace with who she is as a person: an embodiment of Disorder.

Which doesn't explain why she's in an extremely nostalgic mood. If nostalgic is the word for it.

She's taken up a practice in the clinic, settling in to provide whatever medical necessities Hadriel may need, and honestly, she thinks she's feeling lonely or homesick or something. She misses her hot receptionist. She was down for anything. Even convoluted revenge plots that she had no stake in that put her at extreme risk.

Avisheh pretends like she's doing paperwork when someone comes in, but actually she's just doodling in the margins of some kind of mental health checklist form. She glances up at the visitor, then goes right back to concentrating on her doodle.]

Patient or volunteer? I'm new here, still learning all the pretty faces.

RAGE

[Avisheh has been absolutely insufferable the whole time she's been working on this tower. And it's been all her, to be completely transparent: she's not allowing her partner any work on the project. It has to be done right, so she has to be the one to do it. She concentrates silently, holding up a finger every time her partner tries to speak, placing popsicle sticks gingerly against one another one-handed.]

Be quiet, I'm concentrating. I'm doing both of us a favor here, thanks. Why don't you, I don't know, go play Matches and Q-tips in the corner? You know, everyone's favorite game? Matches and Q-tips?

[She tosses a handful of both objects in question towards them, like, please take your business elsewhere, she's got this, thanks.]

FEAR (whispers your OC looks really cool)

[vocarrah]

Ianchus doesn't have a gun, but he does have himself, which, in his mind, is a much better target than a lady with ?false legs? and a cane.

He runs towards the two, and his sword swings down in an arc, wicked curve burying itself in the shoulder of the beast.

The shamshir is meant to cleave armour, but direwolf muscle and bone is another thing entirely. Oh, it effectively distracts the beast, and now it's bowling over the fool that decided to jab his pointy stick into it. His buckler saves him from having his face bitten off entirely, at the least.

Gasping in air after getting it knocked out of him, Ianchus turns his head, calling out:

"You may want to run!"

Reaver | Fable 2

[freebullets]

FEAR

He would be sure to find someone to blame for his being here. Definitely not his, this he was sure. How the beast got here, in front of him, without him hearing it, was surely someone elses fault. If you give him a second, he'll figure out just how he can spin that, but for now, explaining the logic of his inevitable finger pointing could wait.

Not dying seemed like a better use of his time right now.

Sword and pistol out, he was more than just a little surprised when one bullet in the face wasn't enough to make this bear-like wolf cease moving. It was pretty clear running wasn't going to save him here, so he'd taking the exact opposite approach.

Digging in his heels and refusing to give any fucking ground at all good choice.

Rage



"Would you be an absolute dove-" There's a gentle little clatter as Reaver reaches over and just... flicks a popsicle stick support beam out of the way, sending that flying across the room, and the small building that was starting to grow, down into a pile of discombobulated craft supplies.

"And kindly find somewhere else to be incompetent in? I would tell you that it is nothing personal... But it absolutely is, I hate you."

Fear~

[atravellerwithabow]

With the monsters that had been plaguing Hadriel since his arrival now thoroughly driven back, Nil enters the coliseum on the day the newcomers arrive not to save them, but to scratch a certain itch that's been nagging at him for days.

An arrow flies, whistling, and blood sprays as the direwolf closing in on Reaver is very suddenly trying to puzzle out why it has a shaft of wood lodged through its head. It doesn't ponder this for very long, however, before collapsing to the ground and twitching messily.

There's another arrow fired for good measure, and then the man who fired them appears to retrieve them, pulling them free of the wolf in two sharp tugs.

Aredhel | Tolkien's Silmarillion

[silverwoods]

Fear

What a time to really wish Celegorm was around! Elves were generally pretty good when it came to anything living, but these giant wolves were more like some get of Morgoth than Eru. They'd already scored more than a few bites before the Aredhel gave up on attempting to show them she was good.

Her white dress was stained with blood now, but at least she was fairly certain she was alive, rather than in Mandos' Halls as she knew she should be. Thankfully she'd found a good strong length of wood she could use as a weapon, and did so to make the wolves back away- though only as far as her reach ended, and there was a nice circle of them around her.

Forget Celegorm.

Where was Eol?


Wildcard: Make up your own adventure!

[utulien_aure]

Not far away, Fingon pivoted to avoid a bite of his own and plunged his blade into the offending wolf’s skull. It was by chance that he looked up again to catch sight of the larger wolf-pack not far away, but when he did-

Had he been mortal, his heart might have stopped dead in his chest.

“Irisse!” He calls out, hope and fear and rage entwined in his voice, and the he pulls out a dagger from his boot and races toward her.

“Catch!”

The knife goes sailing over the heads to the wolves.

Cecil Palmer | WTNV

[softlyspeaks]

FEAR

[Okay so Cecil? Cecil is a lot of things. Radio talk show host, occasional cat photographer, really bad at keeping a secret...

Nothing on the list of things he's good at involves fighting dire wolves. He's uh... he's not made for that, usually.

So right now, Cecil is backed into a corner, armed with a less than threatening office stapler because... well shit, that's kind of all he had on him at the time, any port in a storm right.

HELP.]

SORROW

Can we talk?

I just need a second to talk. Excuse me, if I may have just one moment, I'm- I really need to get a few things off my chest, I promise in the grand scheme of things it won't be a very long time.

Your average person will experience a grand total of eight hundred and seventy six thousand hours of life, give or take occasional temporal disturbances and minor acts of time travel, I'm only asking for one or two?

Fear

[claritatis]

[The rescue comes in the form of a tall, bespectacled young man with a dagger in each hand. Daggers which appear to be very much on fire. It's expected of the Guard to run in to assist the newcomers as they arrive, and while most of them can usually help themselves, some of them...

Well, some of them can't.]

Are you hurt? [He calls back over his shoulder, putting himself between the man and the wolves. For now, they're wary enough of the fire to hold back, though they don't appear to be giving up.]

Stay close to me, I'll get you out.

Paul | Paul

[thatisjenga]

» FEAR (A)

[When you're just about to be on your way home after sixty years of being stuck on some backwater planet in the Milky Way galaxy, the last thing you expect is to end up face first on the ground with a mouthful of sand, surrounded by noise and growling.

This, sadly, is exactly how Paul's day is going.

The first thing he does is push himself up to his feet. The second thing he does is realise that he is currently surrounded by-- holy fuck look at the size of those wolves.

Paul's gaze darts around wildly for a few moments.]

Oh... Oh, this isn't good.

» FEAR (B)

['This isn't good' would turn out to be an understatement. Paul is usually very good at getting himself out of tricky situations, but the addition of a ridiculous number of wolves is making things far more difficult than they need to be and he is not equipped for any kind of hand to hand combat.

Invisibility is an option, but relies too much on him finding his way out within the time he can hold his breath, and like fuck he wants to end up naked and being chased by wolves.

That lack of ability is what finds Paul backed up against a wall while two very... very large animals close in on him. There's no disguising the fear written across his face, or the way his hands grip against the wall as if searching for an exit.]

I should warn you, I'm... [Talking to wolves.] Fuck. Hey-- uh... hey! [You, there, with the weapon!]

Little help!?

» WILDCARD

[Wildcard it up! Hit me with one of the other two prompts, or catch Paul out in the city.]

Fear (B)

[heavenly_sleeves]

[Help arrives as a young woman cartwheeling in front of him. She might not be what he was expecting as she doesn't have an obvious weapon.]

Leave it to me!

[She moves her arms in complicated patterns with her sleeves in what appear to be dance moves. Each time a sleeve hits a wolf, it reacts as though it's been hit by a club. ]

Are you okay?

Leonard Church (Alpha) | Red vs Blue

[originalcopy]

Fear

At first Church didn't even notice the hulking wolf-thing behind him. In his defense, he had just 'pop'ed out of and then back into existence. So, he's a little distracted at the moment. Sue him.

Once the initial moment of WTF passes, he finally registers the heavy snarling breathing at his back. Naturally, having just left one giant snarling menace, he jumps to exactly the wrong conclusion.

"Okay seriously, the growling thing... it's not really scary anymore." He is so done with all the bullshit of the past few days. Some psycho Freelancer deciding that AI should be like Pokemon, while another seriously fucked up Freelancer tries to convince him that he's some stupid ur-AI.

So.

Very.

Done.

He turns on his heel to give the Meta, a long, heartfelt, pissed off rant about how much he doesn't give a shit... and it's not the Meta. Church just LOOKS at the creature for a long quiet moment before finally uttering in a very calm voice.

"Son of a bitch."

The last thought that crosses his mind before the direwolf attacks: It's a good thing he's already dead.


Rage

"Are you..." He starts, but the sheer amount of pissed off at the situation makes it difficult to find the right words for how pissed off he actually is. "You have to be fucking kidding me."

"What the hell is this?!" Church looks from the pile of building supplies to his 'teammate' and back. His voice rises in pitch. "A preschool arts and crafts project... What kind of idiots are running this place?"

Rage

[lovernotafighter]

What a surprise: Church was bitching again.

Tucker missed it in his own way; he was used to Epsilon's bitching, but it had a different weight to it when he could just disappear when Tucker began yelling back. There was a raw familiarity in this, someone who was frustrated and remembered Tucker, remembered Blood Gulch. Someone's whose voice would break when he got extra pissed off.

Tucker glared at the collection of random sticks and cards and quarters and whatever else they had to work with. Yeah, it was bullshit, but it was less shitty than most of the stuff around here.

"Stop bitching; it's better than fighting zombie nurses or, like, giant bears that are also bugs or whatever other crap goes on here." He grabbed two cards and tried to balance them like a triangle, only to have it fall, fail. Well, fuck.

"Besides, wish, dude. Think of what we could get."

Jane Jones (Alice Ayres) / Closer (cw: sexual references, domestic violence)

[myrealname]

ONE

[to say that this was not what Jane was expecting when she opened the door at Customs would be putting it mildly. instead of the baggage claim area of Lagaurdia Airport, she was faced with desert and two fucking suns? The Colosseum she'd seen in picture postcards of Italy? and those. . . those were some wolves.

she swallowed back a scream, wanting nothing more than to yell bloody murder at what had apparently been done to her, but knowing that if she screamed, she'd get the wolves' attention. if she got the wolves' attention, she'd be done for. granted, she had her bag, but she doubted that clubbing them in the face with it would work at least not more than once. then the rest of them would be on her and probably eating her.

Jane hadn't exactly led the most dignified life, but hell if she was going to end up as wolf shit. she needed a damn rescue and she needed it now]

Hey! Hey! A little help over here!

TWO

[the sorrow had been a constant ever since she had told Dan that she didn't love him anymore and then goaded him into hitting her.

Jane hadn't lied. Dan's constant harping on whether or not she'd slept with Larry killed the love she'd felt for him for four years.

she'd continued loving Dan even after he left her, since he dumped her in favor of that witch she still wouldn't mention, not even in the confines of her own head. she'd loved Dan since the moment she met him, crouched over her in the London street, concern writ plain on his expressive face. that was the truth.

the lie about fucking Larry, though. . . she'd known that Dan couldn't cope with the truth. not really, no matter what he'd said to the contrary. he'd held Jane up on a pedestal she knew that she hadn't earned. not with her deeds, not with her words, not even with her mindlessly devoted love. and she knew that the second that pedestal went crashing down, Dan would be off to find a new woman to idolize.

it was so fucking selfish of her to hang on just a little while longer. she knew that.

she was right to no longer love Dan. she knew that, too.

that didn't make it any easier to cope with, even here where she knew in her heart that she'd never see Dan again.

suddenly, she felt the urge to tell someone her story--the edited version of her story, anyway. enough truth that she could unburden herself a little but not so much that the stranger would give her that look. she couldn't describe the look, she just knew it when she saw it. that look of half-pity, half-contempt that girls like Jane got when they unburdened themselves of their sins.

she approached the friendliest looking stranger she could find and said]

Can I talk to you about something? It won't be long.

[it would be]

THREE

[Jane bit back a swear and struck another match just to watch it burn. she let the flame grow, get within kissing distance of her fingertips before blowing it out.

the next match, she used to light a cigarette, taking a long pull on it before blowing the smoke in her companion's face. see? she could do the passive-aggressive thing, too. that at least had the benefit of getting their fucking attention. finally]

Look, if we're gonna do this stupid thing, you're going to at least have to let me help. That's part of the rules, remember? Teamwork? A bonding experience?

[she'd like to bind them. preferably to a chair with a gag stuck in their mouth. but that was against the precious rules]

You can't build the foundation out of matchsticks, that's stupid. No matter how much glue you use on it, it's just gonna topple over. [slowly and patiently, as though talking to a child] Just give me the popsicle sticks and let me start on the foundation. It's not that fucking hard.

two

[abyssalarcana]

[Caedra does a very good job of being friendly-looking, she has that going for her. She makes her way through the city with a smile far more often than with a scowl, and her small stature and general cheer makes her seem approachable to those who don't know anything about her.

And truthfully, these days more often than not she at least manages to maintain that facade. It only takes being punished by the gods once to force her to step back and re-evaluate. Her usual reckless violence doesn't work in her favor in a place where death is only temporary, where she can't duck home in an instant if things go awry, where she can't ask for advice from the creature she has pledged her service to.

Speaking of, even though she has no regrets and no sins to confess, she does still feel deeply saddened these days. The smile is bittersweet, tinted with sorrow as she spends endless amounts of time with her mind occupied by thoughts of her distant lover. It's these thoughts that have her not fully noticing those around her until one speaks up.

Oh look. A new face. Probably asking for help. Caedra still doesn't fully know what's going on here herself, but she can try - or more likely, make up wrong answers to send this person on a wild goose chase. Maybe she'll get herself eaten by a monster. If Caedra doesn't skewer the girl herself, she can't be held responsible, right?

Surely.]

Oh - Sure! Sure, go ahead, what is it you need?

matt miller | saints row

[notblayde]

FEAR

[ Look, Matt's a shut-in. This is the first time he's seen a wolf in his life, let alone an entire pack... And he has no clue what to do. Look, he's never even had a dog! He doesn't know how they work!

All he really knows is not to run. He's heard enough of Asha's stories, listened to her off handed remarks and bragging about survival, to know that running is bad. Running makes them chase. These things? Are almost definitely faster than he is.

As he backs away, puts himself against something solid, he keeps an eye on everything happening. Watches other people fight. That's much more comfortable to him... Which means he gets into the flow of his actual job. ]

Left! Watch your left! [ He's just... Going to casually coach the actual fighters. He's clearly armed with some kind of pistol, but he only clutches it for now. ] Take the alpha! The big one! Six o'clock!

[ That's how wolves work right - Look he doesn't know! All he's going off is werewolf fanfiction! ]


SORROW

wanted to clear the air.

[ Matt's not good at apologies. He gets caught up in his own head where he trips over his ego the entire way... It's not pretty. So, when he does make one... ]

its not ur fault were stuck here. prob shouldnt have called u incompetent despite u not knowing anything :(

[ Look. He is actually sorry! There's... A photo attachment. It looks like he even drew him and [your character] as cool, buff dragons. Just hangin' out. Thumbs up! Take that as you will. ]

r we good now?? ;)


WILDCARD

[ OTA - if you want another prompt or have an idea of your own let me know! ]

Sorrow

[myrealname]

It's about time.

[Jane isn't good at apologies, either. she's more likely to lie her way out of having to give one]

Of course it's not my fault we're stuck here. Like I'd even know how. And you're right, you shouldn't have called me that.

[she just has to. blink at the photo attachment. is that supposed to be her as a dragon?]

It depends.

Killian | The Adventure Zone

[deathbycrossbow]

Fear

[This. This is not where Killian expected to wake up. How the hell did she arrive in what is apparently some death match building in the middle of a desert, judging by the heat? The orc woman sits up and begins to take stock of her surroundings, freezing with an expression of oooh, that doesn't look good... slipping onto her face when she spots three dire wolves nearby. The dire wolves notice the movement and all turn to look at her, then sniff the air like they're testing if they smell dinner nearby. Looks like they do because they start advancing towards Killian pretty quickly.

Killian doesn't look terribly concerned though. She might like ducks, but she is definitely no sitting duck, especially not when she has her giant crossbow on her. She does a neat little acrobatic flip to jump to her feet, hefting the crossbow into her hands and aiming it at the approaching creatures. Three dire wolves? No problem. The little smirk on her face practically says You want to try and eat me? Bring it. Nothing she can't handle.]

Network

[Killian finds the device on her person after she deals with getting out of the colosseum and she's able to put together it's some kind of communication device fairly quickly. It's not a Stone of Far Speech but... can't hurt to try it out, right? If things start going south, she'll deal with whatever pops up then. She manages to get the voice option working and clears her throat.]

Ah... This is Killian, repeat, this is Killian. If anyone from the Bureau is out there and can tell me what the hell is going on, that'd be great, thanks. I don't have the slightest clue where I am or how I got here.

[She also grumbles a bit more under her breath.] I really hope this is transmitting something and I'm not just talking to a chunk of metal.

fear;

[restinglichface]

Hatchi matchi.

[Lup, arms outstretched and wreathed in flames, had been all too ready to leap forward into action to save the familiar woman, but it's so immediately clear that Killian needs no saving. So, uh, give the elf a second to just let loose a low, impressed whistle while the orc does a perfect flip in the air before hefting up her impressive crossbow without missing a beat.

Bless this. They've really needed more competent women around this place.]

You, uh, got this shit on your own cuz I could go take a break and just pop back when you're done?

Ahsoka Tano | Star Wars | your preferred format

[ahsokathepink]

Fear

It'd have been good to have her sabers now. In all the pain of of her leaving--her decision, she hadn't stopped to think about its concrete elements. How she has no money, nowhere to go. No means of defense.

Except the Force, she thinks, dodging fangs and claws with preternatural speed. She kicks one in the jaw when it gets close. It whines, but jumps back in with its comrades.

Ahsoka couldn't have dwelled on every ramification of her choice, or she wouldn't have been able to make it. Now is the same, if for a different reason. She lets herself sink into the fight, the flow of the moment. Even without her weapons, they are only beasts. She is--had been, she reminds herself, a Jedi. Almost. The thought lets a paw get too close, raking across her bare back.


Rage

Ahsoka doesn't even have a wish. She wants everything to be different. Where would she even start?

Still. She's here; she's taking advantage, doing the best she can for the opportunity. If only her partner weren't spoiling it all.

She tries to direct them. They don't listen. Ahsoka affects a nonchalant smile. Then she extends one hand.

The tower blows outward with an unseen force; Q-Tips fly in circles around her partner's head as she lazily waves her hand.


A wild prompt appears!

Hit me with your own idea!

fear

[disequilibrium]

[ Kylo feels the presence of another Force sensitive almost immediately upon waking, an unfamiliar signature that piques his curiosity. It doesn’t take long to determine the source. For a moment he merely observes, making no attempt to intervene in the Togruta girl’s struggles. She handles herself well enough regardless, competent despite the handicap posed by fighting unarmed. He’s almost impressed.

—Until her control slips. Only then does he move forward, running his saber through the beast before it can strike again. The rest of the pack remains cautious, holding back despite the smell of blood urging them on, but it’s only a temporary reprieve. ]

Can you still fight?

[ His tone is calm, even. It lacks both compassion and anger. If not for the way he tenses in expectation of the fight ahead, it would seem as if the situation has no impact on him at all. ]

Mary | Ib

[withsadness]

FEAR

[There's a little girl staring down a direwolf. It absolutely dwarfs her, and it's slowly stepping toward her, growling with bared fangs...but she's just giggling as she stares at it, head tilting from one side to the other.]

How pretty you are, how cute, how sweet! Are you a girl puppy or a boy puppy? Would you like a kiss?

[Yeah, she's going to get mauled.]

SORROW

[Stumbling her way down the street, Mary shakes as she clutches at her hair. She's not looking exactly well, and as tears stream down her face her eyes dart aimlessly, teeth clenches together.]

No, no, no, it wasn't me. It wasn't my fault. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please don't leave me...

[Who is she even talking to?]

RAGE

[Out of the two of you, Mary is likely the one who is the insufferable partner. It's not intentional...it's just that, you can't put a girl this young in a room with all these supplies and expect her to properly achieve the objective. She doesn't know about physical or architecture! She just knows that she can make it rain popsicle sticks, and so she does! Laughing! Popsicle sticks all over the floor!]

We should just use these! Matches are dangerous and I don't like them! Trash, trash trash! [She begins to clap her hands between her words.] Throw them in the trash!

fear

[watchin]

[ why this. leo's narrowly avoided death by direwolves already and he's just about ready to flee for his life --- but uh, there's a small child there treating it like it's some kind of pet and he's nervously rushing in to take hold of her and gently start pulling her away. ]

--- That isn't a dog! It's a wolf!

[ don't yell at the child, leo??? granted it's like panic yelling, but you know. ]

Runas | World of Warcraft

[gotanymore]

fear

Once upon a time, Runas could probably take on a dire wolf, from a distance, without even having to worry about spilling his wine. Arcane missiles were a fantastic spell, especially where large groups of attackers were concerned.

Now was different. Now was a lot different. Starving and depleted, the spindly, gangly creature was doing his best to not be seen in any capacity by the roving dire wolves, furtively hunting for the exit.

It's really only a matter of time before he's spotted though; even if half the runes on his body have gone black, several still do shimmer and flicker with dying arcane magic.

He's not sneaky.

Sorrow

Like he'd tell anyone this.

Not here, not when he could, quite conceivably, ignore the less... pleasant parts of his past. No matter how many times he might tell himself it was all for the sake of staying alive, there's some images that never go away.

No matter how dire the situation had been. No matter how desperate.

The dying screams of a helpless creature, as intelligent as any elf or man, wasn't something that faded so easily.

He's somehow both listless and fidgety, softly mumbling something, his head jerking up sharply at any sound he hears. At length though, a passerby might find themselves on the other end of the latter half of a confession, stated sharply and loudly, the withering elf clearly staring at his 'company'.

"It was for the sake of living, and nothing more."

fear =p

[bythewaves]

"Get down!" A voice orders, and Maglor kills the wolf sneaking up on him in turn.

"This is no place to stay. Come!"

irene / the invisible library

[bookthefts]

fear/ i don't want your crown

( Usually, Irene knows which world she's walked into. She does so with both eyes open and at least adequate information about what that alternate is like, even if simple barebones details don't always do enough to truly capture the reality of being in any alternate, whether high chaos, high order, or somewhere in between.

She opens her eyes to strange smells and sunlight that shines too brightly for any of the places she's used to. Eyes flick from side to side, cataloguing information about her surroundings, and if the smell and heat wasn't evidence enough that she was nowhere near her alternate London, or the Library itself, the crumbling walls of an (apparently) anicent Coliseum make that case airtight. Nothing that quite looks Roman in origin, either. Or, indeed, like any architecture she knows from any period in history or alternate divergence.

There is, however, a door some ways across from her, something which appears to be her only exit for the moment. And many, many people.

And wolves.

(Great.)

Smoothing down her clothes, Irene approaches the nearest person as though those wolves aren't even there. As long as they're not about to start snapping at her heels, she may as well attempt to find out more. )

Excuse me. Could you tell me the way to the nearest library?

( And see if she can create a door back to the Library while she's at it. )

sorrow/ even if i fall apart

( It smells like burning paper wherever she goes, and her dreams are tinged with fire and the screams of the void once known as Alberich. Voices seem to play in that familiar sing-song of Zayanna's, all the worse if a darling rolls from the tongue. A woman she shouldn't have trusted, if you asked anyone, but Irene couldn't help but like in all her charm and fae-ness.

(No, that isn't a word. Perhaps it should be.)

During the day, Irene scours for books, for stories, for things that could possibly make a library as though that will replace the books she destroyed in her attempt to stop Alberich. As though the memories of burning pages and collapsing shelves could so easily be erased.

By nightfall, she's made her way to the river bisecting the city, watching as she flexes her fingers against her palm. She was - she is - a librarian, and she destroyed books. Many of which were one of a kinds, irreplacable variations of classics, removed from the existence of the multiverse...

Water laps at her ankles by the time she realises her feet are still moving and brings her to a halt.

Someone should pay for the destruction of such a place, of so many priceless objects. She can spin whatever words, blame Alberich for all he'd done, but ultimately, it was her use of the Language which ignited them all. )

fear

[6weeksmax]

Oh, man.

[ Kat gives an apologetic grimace. ]

The only library there was is, uh... kinda wrecked now. Like, a pile of rocks level wrecked.

[ She wasn't here for the battle that did the damage, but she's heard stories. ]

Nate | Fallout 4

[timecapsuled]

a. fear ~ what big teeth you have

What the shit... What the shit?

[Did he hit the wrong button on the way out? This just goes to show how much he should trust fucking Institute tech. What was it - did they figure him out already? Did something give him away? Nate lets off a shot at the wolf nearest to him as he racks his brains, trying to think of something he might have done or said... anything he might have done or said for them to--]

Nono, you stay back, good dogs. [Nate hisses between his teeth, swinging himself around with his revolver held in both hands. There's too many of them. Fuck. What is going on? He doesn't recognise any of the people around him, though truth be told, right now he's far more focused on the goddamn wolves.

And what the hell kind of fucked up this place is to make them grow so big.]

b. sorrow ~ regretfully yours

I didn't try hard enough to get out. I could have... I should have done something.

[It's not an unusual train of thought, though it isn't one that too often comes out verbally. It does now, though, to whoever happens to be sitting next to him in the Speakeasy while he nurses a double shot of whiskey and plays the moment he watched his wife murdered and his son stolen over and over again in his mind.

He grips the gold band hanging from the chain around his neck, a twin to the one still around the third finger of his left hand, and his jaw tenses as hot grief snakes up from the centre of his chest and sticks in his throat.]

I could have done something, and my wife would still be alive.

c. wildcard

surprise me, or find him out in the city!

sorrow

[bookthefts]

( This... is not a good brandy. In fact, Irene isn't wholly sure it deserves the title of brandy at all, but it's alcohol and it does something to numb the regret and guilt curdling in her gut. The emotion may be natural, expected even, after what she did in the name of stopping Alberich (surely, surely there was some better option she simply overlooked), but never in such quantities.

Thank goodness for alcohol. She can regret that in the morning. Surely she will.

The man next to her speaks of losing his wife and Irene can't relate, not wholly. She remembers the clutch of panic when Kai was kidnapped, or after discovering the taint of chaos on Vale, the horror of watching Zayanna die, but her hands are bare of anything but those silvered scars, months old by now.

She knocks back another burning gulp of this drink which claims to be brandy and winces at the taste. The guilt is strong, and it's easy to wallow in the regrets - goodness knows she wants to - but she can't let herself be drawn any further into this. Neither of them can. Irene holds onto that burn, the aftertaste sliding down her throat, and uses it like she uses the curling of her fingers, nails digging into palms, to cut through the urge to wallow. )

You can't know that. Furthermore, I doubt your wife would want you sitting here feeling sorry for yourself over something you can't change.

Floki | Vikings | Will match format

[boats_n_hoes]

★ F e a r

Floki had heard the tails many a time, in fact, he often told them himself when given the chance. Tails of Skoll and Hati, the two wolves that chased and tried to catch and devour Sol and Mani or as you might know them, the Sun and the Moon that dwell in the sky. Never in all his life, did he think he'd actually see them. Yet, as he stood there, behind a fallen block of the wall, Floki stared with wide eyes as the Direwolves patrolled the area.

They were beautiful, deserving of the fear that they stirred up in the people around them. Floki could see others already hiding from them, some trying to flee. He had no problem in waiting it out himself. The wolves hunted in packs, so as long as he had eyes on all of them, there shouldn't be a problem in avoiding them. Testing the air, feeling which way the breeze was and moving to be downwind from the huge lumbering beasts.

It was then that he saw you. Saw you looking as if you were about to make a move, possibly try and attack?! Floki neared as quickly as he could, set a hand at your shoulder from behind, his other touching the axe hanging from his belt. "I really wouldn't be thinking about doing that, if I were you. Then again, I'm not you, I'm me and I know better than that." His strong Norse accent spoken with a soft almost joking manner about it.


★ S o r r o w

Floki has his fair share of sorrows, though sometimes, the things that made Floki sad didn't always necessarily have to be bad things.

The last time Floki had felt anything as sorrowful as this, was when he was overjoyed with happiness. His beloved Helga had told him he was to father her child, he was elated! Yet, Floki believed himself to be bad, broken and unworthy, he was just a joker a troublemaker that was not fit to be a father. A strange thought, yes, but Floki was so happy that it made him depressed and he was being reminded of those very feelings right now.

Rambling to himself as he whittled on a piece of wood he'd chopped down. Making a small statue, one of the Gods he worshipped back home. "I should never have said such things. I don't deserve such happiness but she does!" Angrily he chipped and chiselled away, snagging the blade and stabbing the palm of his hand. Floki yelped, spat out a curse and tossed the wooden omen onto the floor before kicking and stomping on it, all while squeezing his hands together to stop the bleeding.

Fear

[takeoutthegunman]

Mahiro had been mostly trying to figure out just where in Hell he was, trying time and again to talk into the wooden doll that hung from his neck. Then giving a frustrated scoff when the doll wouldn't answer. Was Hakaze sleeping or something? And where was Yoshino, anyway? Not that he's familiar with any of these surroundings. Not even in the slightest.

Wherever he was, the Iron Sickness doesn't seem to have struck here - people are moving around and doing just fine.

Though these direwolves are something else, and they're really starting to get on his nerves. He stares one down.

"Y'know, I'm in a really bad mood today. It'd be a bad idea to fuck with me." He gives a dark grin as he holds out a pipe - a weapon blessed by Hakaze. He doesn't plan to use any magic. He's got to conserve that shit for when he reaches Samon. But hey, it'll still make a pretty good hand weapon.

When he feels that hand on his shoulder, his head jerks to him. And the explanation just causes him to snrk.

"Tch. Yea. You're right, you're not me. Just what else am I supposed to do about it, then?"

dorian pavus | dragon age

[bestdressed]

fear.

[ Wolves, bears, demons. What's the difference, after a point?

Certainly these are particularly large wolves, and there are several of them, with more no doubt slinking about, but he has his staff, and (somehow, miraculously) a connection to the Fade remains. He reaches into it, tests it, and lets the magic flow from him in a rush of hot air. True to the spell he'd been intending to cast, an explosion of flame rocks the earth where the wolves prowl, striking between two of the beasts. They jump back with startled yelps, fur singed, but otherwise unharmed.

That at least puts a little more space between them, and now they are wary to approach him. Given that he doesn't know what else he may be facing after this, Dorian would rather not expend the energy to kill the creatures if he could simply scare them off, or hold them back long enough to escape. He takes edging steps back, keeping the wolves in sight and his staff raised defensively in front of him.

But then there's a growl behind him, and he only manages to spin just in time to intercept the lunging wolf with his staff. Quite literally with his staff, this time. He bashes it hard into the animal's face, which thankfully deters it from sinking its teeth into his face. As deadly and efficient as Dorian is with spellwork, hitting things that jump out suddenly is simple human instinct. His heart hammers in chest now, adrenaline spiking with the reality of that close call.

Well. So much for not having to fight them. ]

sorrow.

[ Given the strain in his voice, the uncharacteristic apprehension to speak, it's clear that as much as Dorian talks about himself, it's rare that he actually shares something deeply personal like this. ]

It was...in no small part my fault. I spent years researching temporal magic with Alexius. I had a hand in that terrible future.

[ It's one of many things he feels guilty about. Not even one of the major ones, if he's being entirely honest. But even when he feels an overwhelming compulsion to confess his sins, his emotional barriers are still too strong to get into the real nitty-gritty of his perceived shortcomings. He feels like enough of a fool blathering about this. ]

rage.

No no no, it's going to fall apart like that, you just--

[ Cutting himself off with a thoroughly exasperated exhale far too aggressive to be a mere sigh, Dorian leans back in his chair and simply throws his hands up. Always dramatic. Honestly, Dorian can be a pretty insufferable person even without the extra influence, so good luck. ]

Kaffas, you are utterly impossible!

[ Already annoyed to start with by the inanity of the task, it's easy for him to get heated quickly. He's quite certain at this point that his partner is not here to cooperate, but to incense him to the point where the simple exercise will never get done. ]

fear ; small gasp

[closerift]

[ It's true that there's nothing quite like Hinterlands bears, but the direwolves are... nothing to be sneezed at, surely. The Inquisitor has long since learned not to take these beasts lightly, despite the usual round of jokes that accompany her into the coliseum in order to keep spirits up. As a new member of the Guard, she's obligated to visit the place in order to escort new arrivals safety into the city, but she's by no means obligated to do it without levity.

Seeing the familiar form of Dorian Pavus doesn't inspire jokes, though. This is the third iteration of the mage since her own arrival long ago, and though she knows better than to hope it's the man from her own Thedas, that unwanted, tentative wish is there all the same. ]

Need a hand? [ Not the glowing one, of course, which another mage has so helpfully calmed for her to prevent the discharge from-... well. Paining her. Instead, Cecily fires off arrows from a longbow, peppering the massive sides of the wolves and provoking them into angered growls and pained snarls.

She turns to Dorian, eyebrows raised expectantly. ]

If you aren't hurt, then I suggest you follow me out of here. Unless you would rather play with the dogs a bit more?

Cassandra de Rolo | Critical Role

[ofwovenstone]

FEAR.
It’s not that Cassandra is unaware of the existence of such things as direbears and direwolves... but living in Whitestone (and rarely venturing beyond its walls; she’s far too busy for a walk through the woods) she never truly encounters them. (And the things she has encountered are worse. Far, far worse.)

But there’s something to be said for how terrifying they are in person.

“Oh, Pelor,” she murmurs softly, taking a wary step back as the pack prowls closer. This is bad. This is very, very bad.

SORROW.

The guilt never quite goes away. But Cassandra has learned to live with it. Learned to swallow down the guilt and regret and the self-recrimination. It’s still there, but she’s able to ignore it. Able to pretend like she’s forgiven herself for all she’s done.

Only it’s swallowing her whole, now. Consuming her. She feels as though she’s choking on it. She cannot breathe for the guilt. For the regret. The image of her family hanging from the Sun Tree, where the Briarwoods put them, after they’d slaughtered the hunters and dragged her back to Whitestone Castle, haunts her.

She should have done more.

It should have been her that died.

Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood to choke back sobs, to choke back the confessions of all she’s done, all she should have done, all she could have done better, Cassandra runs. For somewhere secluded. Or somewhere where there’s alcohol. Perhaps she can drown the regrets instead.