dankmemes | 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

[The Count was having an interesting time wandering around himself. These Direwolves are fairly intimidating, not that he's not confident in himself. That's what immortality is for. But he lacks the knowledge of his surroundings, and should probably keep himself under wraps. So he's going out of his way to avoid these creatures, instead of outright combatting them. Besides, if they don't attack him, he'll have no need to attack back.

His eyebrows raise up in amusement as a rather attractive young woman heads his way. Well-mannered as well, it would seem. He simply smiles at Irene as she approaches.]

Well, I would most certainly be delighted to, if only I knew the way myself. Would you perhaps be willing to go look together? I'd be quite interested in visiting it, as well.

[A library would be great place to gather information, at least. Try to get some understanding of where he is, and quite possibly why he is here.

( He could almost pass for a Fae, a relative of Silver's. Irene takes stock of him and flicks her eyes quickly over his appearance, but despite the resemblance, she doesn't feel any of the indescribable Fae-ness which gives them away. No trace of the kind of Fae glamours she's used to, at the very least. She doesn't intend on letting her guard down just yet - towards him, anyone here, or the wolves lining the Coliseum.

She would far rather explore this by herself, or with people who aren't here, but with no way of finding the area's library - or even knowing how large this city is - the additional help would be appreciated.

And she can keep an eye on him. )

I would. ( There's the slightest incline, nod of her head before she speaks further. ) Now, might I first learn your name?

( That should be a neutral enough request, when Irene has no context for this man's station in life or this world. )

[He's not the slightest bit bothered by someone looking over his appearance. After all, this place is pretty foreign to him, as well, with fashions he's never seen. It's perhaps only natural that one should be both curious and suspicious of another in this world.

He removes his hat, resting it over his chest and bowing a little for her.]

You may call me Saint Germain. I am but a simple Count.

[His real name? That's classified. Idea wouldn't have it any other way.]

And what shall I call you, my lady?

( Well, that's something they can bond over, because her real name is a word given over to only a few people. In this case, even the name she chose as a Librarian remains undisclosed, and - with a curtsey that has been perfected through years of intense schooling and time spent in an alternate Victorian-era London - she introduces herself with the first alias that pops to mind. )

Clarice Applebottom. ( Not the best surname in the world, but it's certainly better than using names from The Three Musketeers ~~Kai~~. ) I'm afraid I'm nothing more than a secretary, my Lord.

( Simple enough aliases, with deference to the term used while she has no real information to provide her with a foothold in this world or against this man. )

A lovely pleasure to meet you, Miss Applebottom.

[He offers to take her hand and kiss the back of it.]

Rest assured, I do not believe status affects us here. Be it secretary or Count. Though I am not quite certain on what form of government this... City, is it? What manner of rule they run themselves under.

[He offers her an arm, then.]

Shall I escort you on this journey to the Library, then?

( She'd rather not, thank you very much. Another reminder of Silver, somehow, and Irene has to catch herself as she pulls her hand out of reach, laying on a certain, more demure expression, as though she's simply too shy to engage in that sort of contact with a man, let alone a Count. )

Thank you, my Lord. ( If she's going to take on this character, she'll do so properly, stubbornly sticking to the form of address for as long as possible. )

Where do you suppose we are? ( A touch of astonishment to her voice there, as though new worlds are an entirely new concept for her. )

[Saint Germain allows her to shy away, as though thinking nothing of it.

He gives a moment of thought to her question.]

I'm not entirely sure. It is nothing I have ever read about nor seen in my life. The scenery doesn't resemble anything in my encyclopedias. Not even the one on similar terrains. It is a rather strange place to be spirited away to. Or, at the very least, it is somewhere I do not remember consciously making the journey to. It sounds to me as though you are in the very same position, Miss Applebottom?

( It all lines up perfectly with Irene's own experiences.

... She doesn't like that. Not at all. One person suggests a kidnapping, a personal reason behind it (and, rather unfortunately, Irene can think of several people who would want to do such a thing). More than one begins to look like a pattern. A greater purpose.

(Or could it be something else? Not that Irene knows what that something could be. She'll need to investigate further.) )

Yes. ( A nod as she gazes around the spiralling streets of the city, under a sun which looks ever so slightly wrong. ) I don't recognise the architecture at all.

( There's a cold dread curling in her stomach. The name of a traitor who lives so far in the realms of chaos that Irene couldn't begin to guess what those worlds look like now. Her hand reaches back behind her, rubbing the space below her shoulder blades where her Library brand is, testing for the kind of pain she'd expect in a high chaos realm.

Nothing.

She isn't sure if that's a good thing. )

Test Drive Meme #31

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