dankmemes | test drive meme # 35

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!test drive

test drive meme # 35

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 August 25th, and apps are open September 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: GET YOUR RED CAPE READY
[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.

And they sure are big boys. Big and easily angered and ready to run right over you. This time, the Door has brought in Brontos, from the video game Dragon Age.

Brontos are large oxen-like beasts, though more sure-footed due to spending all their time in caves underground. There are domesticated brontos, bred to haul and be ridden and eaten... but these aren't those. These brontos are wild, one and all, and they are skittish and large and perfectly capable of running you over. Maybe just keep your distance.]

SCENARIO TWO: DESERTED
[You're alone. Completely alone, as far as you can tell. Nothing here works - oh, there's food in the stores, sure, but the water's not running, the electricity isn't working. There's not a soul on the streets, where you would normally expect to see at least a few people here and there.

So what will you do? Smash windows and grab food from the stores? (Well, the doors are all unlocked, but hey, who doesn't love smashing windows.) Shout in the streets in hopes someone will hear? Curl into a ball and cry? All valid choices. But then, what will you do when you do find someone, after thinking you were all alone? Someone you like, someone you hate, a complete stranger?

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

S O R R O W

SCENARIO THREE: ONE MORE CHANCE
[You can't stop thinking about the one who got away. They've been on your mind - well, it feels like forever, but maybe it's only been a few days. A few hours. But you can't stop thinking about them and regretting what could have been.

Maybe it's a failed romance. Maybe a broken friendship. Maybe a family member who walked away - or who you walked away from. Even a business partner who things ended poorly with. Whatever it was, you regret how things went down. If only you had another chance, a chance to fix things!

And then, there they are. The person you've been thinking of. What will you do? Beg forgiveness? Make amends? Run away? Make your decision and take action, because as soon as you do it you might realize it was never that person at all. You might have just poured out your heart and begged forgiveness from a complete stranger.]

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A shaman?

[He was listening!]

Yes, but...you're human. I'm not.

[ She watches him, unsure how he'll react. ]

You...you don't know what that means?

That would explain the big. And the green.

[ He's taking this well. Because he's pretty sure it must be a hallucination.]

I have no idea what that means. Am I supposed to?

I've never met someone who doesn't.

[ So this is new for both of them. Kettara isn't sure whether that's a good thing. ]

I'm an orc. Humans don't like us.

An orc.

[His brain immediately goes to Lord of the Rings and she... does not look like that.]

Am I not supposed to? You seem fine to me. Other than all the weird magic shit you can do.

My name is Kettara.

[ She leaves off the Bloodthirst title for now. ]

I don't know. You're the first one I've met who didn't insult me. Or try to kill me.

[ Both equally important, in her mind. ]

Why would they do that?

[She's clearly strong, she could easily snap his neck, and he's not in the habit of starting fights he can't win. Though he does realize that there's people who aren't like that and get themselves into terrible situations.]

I'm not planning to attack you. I only have the sledgehammer anyway.

[Unless he pelts her with dozens of cans of soup. Very menacing.]

[ Kettara looks away. ]

There was a war. They won.

[ That's not the problem. It's what came after. ]

They were not honorable in their victory.

[ She blinks at him. ]

A hammer can be an effective weapon. Maybe not for you. You should try an axe.

[ Something more suited to his build. ]

A bunch of humans defeated a bunch of people just like you?

[Giant strong green folks with armor? He's not buying it. Unless they had a lot of gattling guns. And maybe air support.]

Of course we weren't honorable, we're humans. That's what we do. Should all be fucking wiped out. Let the deer and wolves take back the land.

[He snorts. People are scum.]

It was the closest weapon I could find. And my machine gun, but it's too big to lug around everywhere.

[ Kettara bristles before she can take a breathe and let the tension bleed from her shoulders. He doesn't know. It's fine. ]

The tactics were flawed and our leaders fell to corruption. Of course we lost.

[ The assault was doomed to failure. She knows that, though the understanding smarts. ]

Why do you say that?

[ She's never heard of a human saying such things about their own species. Though the question is forgotten as soon as he mentions the gun. ]

Oh! You have a goblin rifle. Can I see it?

Because it's true. We destroy everything we touch. Anything we manage to build we burn down.

[Goblin... you know what, he's not even going to question anymore.]

Yeah, it's going to look normal sized in your hands probably.

[She can certainly see the gun, but not the ammo. He's keeping that hidden away because he's not sure he can ever get more if he uses it. Which is part of the reason he's been hesitant to carry it around. He's twitchy and he'd shoot anything that moves and be out of ammo in four minutes.

He starts pushing his crate of soup towards his house. They're not far away, his house is a small a frame right on the beach. There's a bunch of junk on the porch, supplies he hasn't gone through yet.]

Oh.

[ That's a strange thing to say about your own race, Kettara thinks. Strange and a little sad. She follows Pratt with the soup in hand, curious to see what his camp looks like. It it a building with glass windows like the others she's seen, or a more temporary structure?

To her surprise, the structure is fairly small. ]

I have seen them before, [ she adds. ] Guarding caravans and the gates of Ogrimmar. I've heard it takes great skill to use one properly.

Takes skill to aim and conserve ammo. Not so much when you hold down the trigger and pump out 400 rounds per minute. Then you don't need much precision.

[He leaves his new palette of soup outside, he can deal with that later. More importantly he wants to get inside and make sure he doesn't have underwear hanging off the ladder and junk everywhere. He is not a neat person and most of his energy has been towards growing his stockpile.

It's small in his house, but two people can fit. There's an armchair, a bunkbed, and some barstools in the kitchen. There's also a lot of bottles of water and non-perishable food. ]

One sec. Lemme dig the M60 out of hiding.

...I suppose not.

[ She knows enough about such weapons to understand the devastation they can cause. Still, Pratt's home is a more interesting subject for the moment. She steps inside, sniffing the air. There's so much stuff. She's never seen so many things in one place. ]

All of this is yours?

I've been stockpiling in case the stores run out of supplies. It's .. something they did back home. Prepper stashes. For the apocalypse.

[Boy it sounds stupid when said out loud. He goes over to the bunk bed, grabbing his machine gun off the top bunk.]

Ever actually held a gun before?

The end of the world?

[ It's a sobering thought. Kettara has heard of worlds ending before. She never did see Outland before her mother fled. Supposedly it was beautiful, once.

She blinks. ]

No. But I can use a bow.

Yeah. It's something people back home worry about.

[Not something he really needs to care about here. Since he's not even 100% sure he's still alive. But he wants to be prepared anyway.]

Alright, well.. this is nothing like a bow. It's not loaded so you're not gonna shoot anything, but you hold it like this.

[He demonstrates, putting the stock of the rifle against his shoulder. The M60 is not a small gun and is a little unwieldy. At least the canvas ammo bin has been enhanced by some bedazzled jewels in a random pattern.]

People worry about that where I'm from, too.

[ One of her first duties as Master Muln's apprentice was to help him clear out a group of Burning Blade fanatics. A gruesome duty, to be sure, but a necessary one. At least in death they had been true orcs, warriors to the end.

Kettara leans in for a better look, nodding. It's larger than the rifles she's seen back home, but she appreciates the small flash of gems. A warrior ought to make their weapon special. ]

May I?

[ She really, really wants to hold it. ]

[It's almost a relief that the end of the world is universally feared. Makes him feel slightly less crazy.]

Sure.

It's heavier than it looks.

[Not that she can't handle it, but it won't feel great if she drops it on her foot. He hands it over stock first, flipping up the little tripod feet for setting it on the ground.]

This handle on top is for carrying, you'll want to hold it right about here and look down the sight with your dominant eye.

It's made for mowing down troops, fires something obscene like 500 rounds per minute. Not that I have that much ammo, but that's what it's designed for. We had a ton of these, but Jacob wanted to kill everyone by hand.

[Mow down entire towns in one go, or mercilessly hunt them down and skin them one by one? The choice seemed pretty obvious to Pratt. And it wasn't the skinning option.]

[ It takes both hands to balance properly. Kettara hefts the weapon, bringing it to bear so she can get used to the feel, the weight of the thing. Then she listens to what Pratt is really saying, and lowers the weapon with a frown. ]

This is a dishonorable weapon. A true enemy is owed a fair fight.

[ She hands it back to him abruptly. ]

This Jacob, he is your commander?

There aren't any fair fights. Someone is always stronger, someone is always more cunning.

[He shrugs, taking it back and setting it on the bunk.]

Not everyone is honorable, some people just want to survive.

[Like him. He just wants to survive.]

Yes.

I mean... No. Not really. I ...

[He looks a little lost suddenly.]

Yeah, I suppose he is.

A warrior must be honorable. Otherwise their ancestors spit on them and they'll walk alone in death.

[ Kettara believes this with everything in her. A good fight is an honorable one. But she has learned that humans don't see things the same way. They have strange notions and rules she doesn't understand. ]

...I don't understand. Either he is your commander or he is not.

Edited (urg html ) 2018-09-19 16:46 (UTC)

That sounds noble, but people aren't like that. They lie and cheat and betray each other.

[He knows; he's dying a traitor back home right now. Well, traitor to one, hero to another. It depends on who's point of view is looking at it.]

He's the leader of the army. He takes us, owns us, .. hears us.

[Pratt can tell he's drifting into that catatonic state he gets in sometimes and he visibly collects himself. He doesn't want to act like a psychopath in front of a stranger in his own home. ]

We're not talking about this. I'm here, he's not. That's it.

They should be.

[ Kettara frowns, taking a step forward. There are spells to speak to another being without actually speaking, but that's not what gives her pause. Owns us? ]

Do you fight for a slaver, Deputy Pratt?

[ She has a hand on her axe already. The elements will support her in killing him, if he's done such things. ]

We're not slaves.

[But he looks really unsure about that.]

Yes I... I will train. I will kill. And I will sacrifice in his name. I will cull.. cull the weak and I will...

[He doesn't finish the mantra. There's a moment where he seems to be staring at something that isn't there before he backs up unsteadily, crying out in pain and holding his head with both hands. He mutters a prayer, eyes wide and focused entirely on the floor beneath him. But the way his head is pounding, Jacob's words screaming at him, he's not strong enough to resist. Breathing ragged through clenched teeth he drops to his knees.]

The weak must... must be culled.

[He hasn't forgotten she's there though, and he's struggling to hold onto sanity right now, even as his shoulders heave from the effort.]

No! Don't listen to me. I'm not going to. I won't.

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