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dankmemes2018-04-20 10:18 am
hadrielmods) wrote in dankmemes2018-04-20 10:18 am
Entry tags:
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?]
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"Don't worry; there's totally enough time to hit the gift list before we invite you."
Yeah, this was going great. Tucker was way too stubborn to admit how much he missed this asshole, how important he was to him, how so much of what he did now and how he felt was all because of losing this jerk right here. Welcome to Best Friends In Blood Gulch Club, Alpha, where people never admit how they really feel.
"Get those popsicle sticks ready, then because I've got the chicks all picked out." His eyes flickered away; he was lying. Fuck yeah, he was lying, because his one wish? Above all of them? Was to remove all of the Churches' suicidal streaks.
He rolled his eyes. Come on, asshole, keep up (not that he expected anyone to ever tell Church; this team was shit at sharing information). "While you were out on your one-way mission, I was doing S.O.S. calls from a desert alien temple that I was trapped in forever. You know, because stepping outside pretty much would get me killed. So, thanks for including me and seeing how I was."
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How else could this go? Alpha's practically the definition of emotional constipation, he's never once even used the word 'friend' in relation to Tucker, or anyone else. He doesn't have friends; friends are people you care about and people you care about can die. So why the hell would he want friends? Tucker just an asshole he has to deal with. That he couldn't be around after he lost Allison... lost Tex. He couldn't be around any of them.
And yet... here he was...
"Tucker, what are you blathering about? I never heard any S.O.S." ...if he had.... "And what were you doing in an an alien temple?"
Sorry Tucker, but anything about all the chicks you won't be getting has been filed away as 'didn't listen to'.
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“We’re registered at Sex Swings Emporium.”
Out of sight, out of mind, huh, Church? All of them were sent away and you never had to think of any of them again? Tucker felt an iota of his resolve break, something smoothing down, but he couldn’t. He just—couldn’t. Church never said goodbye.
He never said goodbye. And if he had just taken Tucker, then Tucker…Tucker could have stopped all of it. He’d be alive still.
“I went on a diplomatic mission and next thing I know, all the aliens and other folks are dead and I’m locking myself in a damn desert temple, trying not to get my ass killed.” Constantly under fire. No way out. No way to any sort of safety. Welcome to a life of sand in his crack and so little sleep that he hallucinated shit on the bad days. He tried to make a Wilson like that ancient movie, but when all you have is sand, trying to carry him around was pretty impossible.
Don’t ask him about when he tried to reenact American Pie. Sandburn.
“You went and found everyone else, but you didn’t fucking come to find me!” His hand smacked the table; the glue was the only thing keeping the Tower up. “And you know what? When Wash and I got separated, he tried to come and find me at least. So be pissed if you want, but—but he wouldn't have abandoned me, asshole!”
Shit, was he angrier at himself or Church anymore? Or just angry that the opportunity to fix it was stolen from him?
no subject
He was completely alone for fourteen months. 36,790,000 seconds. Not that he was counting.
"Found?" Ho-le-shit, this what the big deal is about? "Tucker, I didn't FIND anybody. Everybody else found me!"
How can Tucker seriously think he would go out and look for Caboose and the Reds and NOT look for him too?!? If he was going to look for anyone, he'd probably start with Tucker. Other than Tex, that is. Just like Tucker took off to find Junior.
"I was minding my own fucking business, when Agent Washington showed up with Caboose! And the Reds..." His voice pitches up again as he gestures with his arms. "They just popped up out of goddamn nowhere to try to kill us!"
Which was actually the Meta's fault, but that doesn't really matter right now. "Next thing I know, Wash was ordering them along for the ride!"
And that's the story of how the band got back together. Happy now? He didn't forget about you dumbass... as far as he knew, you were the safest of all of them.
"But hey, I'm glad Wash was there to be your hero." All he did for him was to lead him to his death. Good times. Bitter? There aren't enough lemons to compare to him. But... there's part of him that means it too.
He couldn't be there for Tucker, he couldn't be there for anyone. That's why he was happy to be on his own. That's why, in the end, the only way he could be there for Caboose and the others, was to not be there with them. If Wash was right and he was an AI, he'd be wiped out in the emp. If Wash was wrong... he's going with Wash was wrong because he's here now. Take that, motherfucker.
Church takes off his helmet... it's feeling too uncomfortable all of a sudden. He just needs to be rid of it for now.
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"I didn't want a hero, you cockbite! I wanted my best friend!"
They were the mirrored words from a long time ago, standing at a broken radio at a crash site while he yelled at Wash. And while he wouldn't trade the Freelancer for anything in this whole stinking universe, Tucker didn't understand why he couldn't have both. All. Wash. Church. Epsilon. Everyone else.
Maybe he was greedy. He didn't know, didn't care; just let him stop the idiots around him from just...going away. From getting deleted, deleting themselves, from getting all Freckles Shake. Stop with the death wishes!
Tucker looked at their messy pile of supplies, then at everyone else's growing, composed tower. Seemed like the perfect metaphor for them. "If I had been there, that shit-- it wouldn't have happened."
no subject
Well... fuckberries. Can he opt for the punch instead?
"I..."
Shit. Church runs a hand through his hair, then down around so he can plant the elbow on the table and rest his chin on his palm.
"Yeah. You're probably right."
There. Tucker was right. If he'd been there, if he'd known that Tucker needed him...
maybe he would have thought of something. Maybe they would have thought of something. But he hadn't and he was just so done with it all. Sick of the Freelancers, sick of their program, sick of the Reds and the Blues, sick of having to worry about what bullshit was coming next. If Wash was right, then they could stop it all right then. Tucker, Caboose, the Reds, they could all get on with their lives.
If Wash was wrong, and he's still trying to hold onto the opinion that he is, then he'd just catch up with them later.
The way Tucker is talking, though... Alpha shrugs and motions to the obelisk of jackassery.
"So, you think we can salvage this shit?"
no subject
There was none.
Tucker stared for a second longer, unsure if he felt better for it or not because it just proved that he should have been there. Sure, sure, he was stuck in a fucking temple in the desert, but if he had been with the rest of them, he would have been able to save Church. He would have been able to keep Alpha alive. He would have been able to stop Wash, stop them, stop all of them.
But he wasn't there. He was stuck in a fucking temple.
His eyes looked at the pile, before shrugging. He wasn't sure that Church was really talking about the tower, but it seemed as good of metaphor as ever.
"We've seen worse shit." And he reached for q-tips with a smile. "It's usually our fault that it's worse shit, though."
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"Are you kidding? We're just lucky Caboose isn't here." He manages a genuine enough smirk. "Matches and Caboose. We might as well give him live ammo while we're at it."
He seriously had better not have to deal with your emotional baggage, Tucker. Swear to god, he'll put you out of his misery.
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"Just give him a tank while you're at it." How many things had Caboose burned down, huh? Was it more than Donut? Were they trying to outdo each other, like keeping score? Carolina had told him enough to make him wonder just how far this went, if it was purposeful, accidental, or just each other rubbing off on the other.
At least Caboose was in this place so they could keep an eye on him. Red Team - wherever they were - could have Donut. There. Even.
"You know," he said, tossing q-tips on the tip and trying to glue them tip to tip, "this place gave me that Reservoir Dogs you made for me. I was thinking of having a movie night with it."
And he was pretty sure that the protests would start in five...four...three...
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God, that stupid movie. He can still recite Every. Single. Fucking line. It's burned into his memory like brand made of stupid. Watching it once... twice... hell, five times would have been fine, but it was like shabbat for Tucker. Some kind of ritual observance that he insisted on dragging everyone else along to. Fuck, he's seen that movie more often than he'd ever set foot near a synagogue.
"Tell me you didn't wish for it and it was some kind of sick joke."
Because, it's just another reminder that, for all of the bullshit... there were moments that made Blood Gulch one of the best times of his life. And that thought is just infuriatingly pathetic.