dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #31

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!test drive

Test Drive Meme #31

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?]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's very fashionable to beauty up your beauty mark, thank you~

And since we're absolutely livid, we're not going to have the brainpower to come up with anything better to shout back so as Reaver goes to grab two fistfuls of popsicle sticks, rub them in discarded paste and then shove Hugh in the attempt to cover him with sticky popsicles, Reaver heads for an old favorite-]

Not nearly as stupid as yours!

[NO U]

That doesn't make any--son of a bitch!

[ Now he's covered in gluey popsicle sticks?? On his favorite outfit, please die? Is there glitter nearby? There is now. Hugh - whose hands are covered in paste at this point - goes for it and then goes for Reaver's hair. As far as vain shits like him are concerned, he might as well be going for the throat. ]

This outfit is worth more than your life!

[ It's some random crap he found in one of the shops probably, so it means next to nothing to him in the grand scope of things, but Reaver's life means even less. ]

[That's your own fault for wearing your best suit to the magical wish making anger infused popsicle house class.

Oh hell no, you're not touching his hair with your gross ass glitter paste hands.

Other heroes of Albion use their blessed, rare birthright, passed down through centuries, for the greater good. To save lives. To turn the tide of battle. To counter evil and ensure that their people, king and country might live to see another sunrise.

Reaver's gonna use it to dodge sticky glitter hands and try to swat a newly obtained handful of glitter across Hugh's face like the most fabulous bitch slap ever.]

I'm sorry you overpaid for that burlap sack.

[ PLBBPPBT great now he ate a bunch of glitter. Maybe he'll die. Maybe, hopefully, he'll just drop dead right here and be spared the pain of trying to get glitter out of his hair and clothes, a process that is probably going to take the next calendar year. ]

At least I'm not trying to wear that ridiculous little soul patch like it's halfway fashionable. [ Reaver is officially Too Quick to manhandle so here, have some random wheely-doo decoration thing chucked at your head, buddy. ] Honestly! I hope you're embarrassed to walk around in public like that, because you should be.

[ The sad remnants of Hugh's precious little tower lie crumpled between them - halfhearted at best, he goes to pick them up. It's like two crooked popsicle sticks glued together at this point. ]

If you're not going to help, could you at least do me and the entire world a favor and go stand quietly in the corner or something?

Just because you cannot grow any facial hair, doesn't mean you have to take your unchecked seething jealousy out on your more attractive peers.

[That's right eat ~~shit~~ glitter. He's snagged a yardstick, and goes to swat the offending craft out of the air like a glitzy softball, pointedly trying to smack it right back into Hugh's face.]

I was trying to help, I was clearly offering you the chance to grab a nice, refreshing bottle of paste, find an appropriately blunted, comfortable little chair, and enjoy yourself while I set about doing the more delicate work.

It isn't my fault you're so easy to offend.

Oh, absolutely, I'm the one that needs to sit in the corner.

[ PFFFT. That toss went just about as successfully as anything else Hugh's done here, by the way, meaning it bounces off the yardstick and this basically happens. Asshole. Hugh, wiping glitter off his face with a scowl, gives a dismissive little wave of the hand. ]

I'm the genius engineer with decades of experience and you're the... you... [ U G H. ] You don't know how to dress yourself, so there.

[ It should probably be pointed out that Hugh's wearing an obscene amount of the color gold. And a grill. He doesn't understand how to dress himself either. ]

Oh good, I'm glad we agree. Your corner's right over there~.

[Another obnoxious little laugh as the craft ricochets off Hugh's face, his brand new makeshift rapier jauntily swept up to rest on his shoulder.

Now he's armed, even if it's less effectual than an actual sword.

If he tries, he's sure he could probably still shank a bitch with it]

Engineering, gracious, how overqualified.

I can tell, only a desperate, lonely social pariah would leave his house wearing that much gold all at once, and that just about encapsulates every engineer I've had the misfortune of not immediately shooting.

You say desperate, lonely social pariah like it's supposed to be some sort of insult. [ Chucking another popsicle stick?? Reaver's reaction time is insane, he's half doing this out of curiosity now, even if he's pretending he's not. ] I don't have friends. They impede my work.

And feel free to kiss my ass, at least I'm not insecure enough to fake a beauty mark.

[ SO? THERE?? ]

Well that does explain a lot. When is the last time you've slept with someone?

Never?

[A casual flick of the wrist sees to it that popsicle doesn't get anywhere close to him, even as he raises a gloved thumb and rubs at the little heart on his cheek.

In short order, the heart is gone.

The beauty mark is still there though HAHA]

Go ahead and keep trying to point out imagined imperfections, they're hitting just about as well as everything else you keep tossing at me~. Are you having fun, poppet?

[ SON OF A BITCH ]

You are just - the worst.

[ Like that's pretty much all he has rn, looking to right the table again and pick some of the gluey popsicle sticks off his shirt. Maybe he can make a sad little teepee. Maybe everyone else is also paired with a walking bag of dicks and they're doing even worse than he is. A man can dream. ]

It's just incredible how much I don't like you. Has to break some kind of record. [ Flicking another popsicle stick at Reaver. When it inevitably gets batted away: ] How are you doing that? Can't you at least have the decency to take a stick to the face and make me feel better?

[ A pause, like he's going to address the innuendo, but you know what no fuck off. ]

Just for you~.

[Well, currently. If it was anyone else here he'd definitely be just as much of an asshole. He won't make a move to interfere if Hugh does decide to try building something again. Maybe. It depends on how much the man keeps bitching.

At this point, the obvious discrepancy in physical ability is making Reaver much happier. The next stick goes sailing off, this time pointedly aimed at Hugh's face, because irony.]

I'd normally be all for accepting a man's need to put his stick in my face, but I don't really care about making you feel better, so you'll have to deal with leaving unfulfilled.

[That's right he's even going to make an effort to outdo the innuendo now.]

[ This next stick manages to make it into Hugh's good eye, because life is terrible. Swearing, rubbing at it, Hugh pulls the chair back into place before sitting down to fuss with his sad little popsicle structure. ]

I gave you a perfectly good opportunity for a wood joke and you wasted it. [ Tut tut. Shaking his head tbh. ] Can you, I don't know? Go away? Why don't you make a nice little spire or something and let me do the important bits.

Edited 2018-04-22 15:31 (UTC)

It would have been clunky and inelegant. Just like your outfit.

Because you've already proven you have no idea what you're doing and have no concept of architecture and style.

Then why don't you give it a shot?

[ WAVING AT HIS SAD LITTLE STICK BUILDING. ]

Go on. Impress me. [ A scoff. ] Or you can keep being an obnoxious turd, I suppose, I can't exactly stop you.

I would, but you absolutely reek of the vengeful, vindictive type and I'm absolutely positive you'll just sabatoge it.

I'm not touching this mess until you leave.

If I leave, you forfeit the wish anyway.

[ Chucking another stick at Reaver tbh. It literally does nothing to the guy, but it makes Hugh feel a little better. ]

And I absolutely am the vengeful, vindictive type, thanks for noticing. [ Maybe if he just throws a lot of sticks at once - yeah he's chucking a fistful. Literally all the building materials are on the floor at this point. ] I'm not leaving first and giving you the satisfaction, so I suppose we're both just going to die here. Get comfortable.

[Look, he's just gonna keep casually deflecting them, but you do you, man]

... I would forfeit that wish out of spite, that seems like a reasonable trade.

[FUCK OFF. The fistful of popsicles is sidestepped, though a few of them are batted back at Hugh's face again]

Well at this rate, one of us is definitely going to die here.

I've never put too much thought into beating someone to death with a yard stick, but I suppose there is always a first time for everything.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Test Drive Meme #31

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literally just spams my one angry icon, rip

two grown adult men here havin a grown adult man conversation

two perfectly reasonable grown-ass adults here nb nb

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