test drive meme # 39

[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 December 25th, and apps are open January 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: HE MADE HIS LIST
[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.

You were hoping for something seasonally appropriate, right? Well, the Door doesn't know it's December, so this must be a coincidence - because this time, it's brought in the Krampus.

This creature is the opposite of Santa, and if you've been bad (and let's be real, who in Hadriel hasn't), it'll be all too happy to punish. Maybe you'll get lucky and it'll just scare the crap out of you and give you some coal... or maybe it'll decide your punishment needs to be much, much worse. Don't you wish you'd been good this year?]

R A G E

SCENARIO TWO: HADRIELITE VANDAL
[Last night everything was fine. You went to bed happy and content - well, as happy and content as you ever are. But this morning, as you stepped out of your house, something was wrong. Maybe you didn't notice it at first - maybe someone had to point it out to you. But there it was, in big bold letters: someone had painted an insult across the front of your house.

Maybe it's a rude name. Maybe an insulting comment. Maybe just a picture of a dick with an arrow pointing to it that says your name. Whatever it is, someone did it specifically to fuck with you. But who? And why? Maybe you already think you know who, and all you need to do is hunt them down. Or maybe it's time for an investigation. Or... maybe all you want to do is clean it off before someone sees.

Good luck. That paint is already dry.]

C O N F U S I O N

SCENARIO THREE: ALL FLIPPY-FLOPPY
[You didn't realize there was anything wrong, not until you saw that person you've always thought was your best friend. They seem the same as ever, it's just - you really don't understand what you saw in them anymore. They're kind of whiny, they're way less cool than you remember, and that hair? Ew.

It's not just that. You ran into your worst enemy earlier, and maybe... you were wrong about them? It really seems like they have some good points, and that annoying expression they always make actually seems kind of cute now. Maybe it's time to kiss and make up, possibly literally!

This is a mini version of our Your Best Enemy event this month.]

Comments

Aqua | Kingdom Hearts

[caeruleae]

through the Door, and then around;

[This place isn't so bright, but Aqua has to blink as her eyes adjust—she's been accustomed to nothing but darkness for so long. At the sound of the Krampus' approach, she whirls around, instantly calling a rather unusual weapon to hand and falling into a practiced battle stance.]

I don't know what you are, but I'm not afraid of you.

[It wouldn't even occur to her to look for aid in this fight, but if someone joins her, she won't turn it down. Afterwards, she spends some time in the coloseum, fighting whatever monsters she happens upon.]

out & about;

[Eventually, she makes her way out of the facility, and things only get stranger for her. She holds herself tensely, a sort of grim purpose settled on her shoulders, but eventually begins to relax by a fraction. Her warrior's demeanor is somewhat belief by the battered pair of ears she wears on her head.]

Excuse me. Can you tell me...what is this place? I received a message, but it doesn't make sense. I've never heard of a world that can draw people in this way.

wild card;

[Toss me something.]

out & about

[standformyself]

[She's out and about all the time. Given that the cold isn't something that the Dog feels, she has no qualms about putzing around, especially since the person that she had been residing with had disappeared. A pity, as she had enjoyed his company.

Now she wanders here and there (although she would have before as well), looking for anything of interest. She has yet to venture too far out towards the hills, but one day the Dog likely will. Today she does happen to be sniffing around, following scents that her nose tells her about. New scents, and quite a few of them, although perhaps she is more interested in a little white cat who may or may not be up to something. No such luck so far, but she's not actively trying to track Mogget down.

Whether the question has been addressed to her or not, the Dog does answer.]

It's Hadriel. A most unusual and interesting place.

out & about

[blessedmaiden]

[Rydia is still trying to put herself together and remember where her old house in Hadriel was when the other woman speaks to her. She turns, raising an eyebrow and studying the other for a short moment, despite the... almost silly head decoration that's the stance of a warrior.]

Well... this is the City of Hadriel. And- I'm afraid that message is accurate, the door seems to be able to take people from other worlds. [A small sigh escapes her lips as she crosses her arms, being kidnapped by a door isn't the most absurd thing she had seen in Hadriel] I have been away for... some time, I'm not entirely sure how long, so I don't know the current state of the place. But this is quite... the interesting location.

Lucretia | The Adventure Zone

[madamdirector]

merry krampus

[ "Bad" may be relative, but Lucretia's certainly made her share of mistakes. And while she's never heard of Christmas, Santa Claus, or the Krampus, she recognizes a monster when she sees one.

Or when it sees her. Which, unfortunately, it has. Her first instinct is to dive behind whatever shelter may be available; if there's nothing in sight, or once the Krampus hunts her down, she'll stand and fight, alternating between defensive attacks and simply holding her staff out before her, creating a translucent barrier between the monster and herself and whoever may be at her side. ]

Stay behind me!

banksy was here

[ Insults don't have to be obscene or untrue to be devastating. When Lucretia steps outside and sees the accusation painted in giant red letters across the facade, her first reaction isn't shock or hurt. It's panic.

She tries soap, she tries magic, but no matter what she tries, it seems that word isnt' going anywhere. And it's only a matter of time before the wrong person sees it and starts asking questions that she really, really doesn't want to answer.

THIEF ]

your best enemy

[ ok i don't even know how to write a starter for this one but please hit me ]

wildcard

[ hey there liches, it's me, ya girl ]

not so merry

[standformyself]

[There are many new things that the Dog has learned since her arrival here. She isn't surprised that dogs don't talk in other places, as they technically don't talk where she comes from either, but the Dog hasn't actually explained that to others. She tends to just wiggle out of an explanation.

Yet she has enjoyed the new adventures, having made new friends, although there had been that little hiccup not that long ago. She is back to her normal temperament, which tends towards casual and social, for the most part. At this exact moment her hackles are raised as her nose leads her, and there is a low growl that vibrates deep within her chest.

The Dog has been tracking when she comes upon the other, and her ears to shift upon her head, trying to figure out what it is that she is doing. Magic is nothing that is new to her though, but she does remain slightly larger than usual, having grown somewhat in size since she set out.]

I don't know what it is, but I don't like the look, or smell, of it.

HO HO HO

[naturaltwenty]

No offense, Lucretia, but I'm not going to do that.

[ There's no way you expected Magnus to rush in, right? Because...surprise, he is!!

Ax drawn and clearly having a fun time, the warrior dashes forward toward the Krampus. There's a half-laugh, half-war cry as he slashes across its body.

...Or, where its body used to be. That space is suddenly empty. ]

Uh. What? [ He has to catch himself a bit as all the force of his swing continues the momentum, but it's not long before he turns around again, frowning hard. ]

Did you see where it went?

Yooooo, it's Krampus time

[plays_despacito]

[Lucretia was probably expecting someone a little more helpful in an actual fight, given that for whatever irritating reason, things didn't seem to work quite as well here. But he's blinking slowly at whatever the fuck Krampus is and then turning his attention to Lucretia.

Because of course he is.]

What the fuck is that? [Maybe being loud enough to grab attention isn't the best course of action here, but when you've died once, dying again doesn't sound too bad.]

I've seen some weird shit in my life and everything, thanks for that, but that's new.

banksy time

[restinglichface]

[Lup manages to find Lucretia while she's attempting to scrub away the letters, the elf slipping up behind her silently.]

Now that's just all wrong. I can think of a million better words to describe you.

[And let's be real. At least two-thirds are straight up flirty.]

krampus

[caeruleae]

I can't do that, ma'am.

[Leaving an innocent person to face danger has never been in her nature, but Aqua is especially disinclined to do so now, when she's found herself in a world with other people and not just monsters for the first time in...so long.

The barrier catches her by surprise, though, and she looks at the women with an extra measure of respect as she calls her Keyblade.]

You're a mage? We can work together.

[Their foe isn't content to allow the suggestion to be accepted or rejected—it attacks, and Aqua strikes back, releasing a barrage of ridiculously sparkly Disney spells.]

Linda Belcher | Bob's Burgers

[momnipotent]

fear

What the...?

[Linda sits up in the dirt. Since when is there a coliseum in town? And how did she get here? Aw nuts, looks like Mommy had a little too much fun last night. She doesn't remember dipping into the wine though... Weird. She grunts and climbs to her feet, dusting off her apron.]

Okaaay... Gotta get back to the restaurant before Bob and the kids wake up.

[But her phone's dead, and she has no idea where she is, and ooh boy it's chilly out here, isn't it? She hugs her arms to her chest and scurries toward the exit.

But a low growl stops her. She whips back around just in time to see a horned silhouette disappear behind some rubble.]

Oh my god! It's the Bleaken! The kids were right!


confusion - now we're friends

[Congratulations, someone who's managed to piss Linda off! You're invited to dinner theater at Linda's cute little house!!! She sent out invitations over the network a couple of days ago, and tonight's the big night. When you arrive, her living room has been rearranged to face all the seating toward the kitchen, where she's set up a makeshift stage. Apparently she was short on actors, too—the sign on the door now advertises a one-woman show.

She shoves a glass of wine into your hand as you enter.]

Alriiight! Glad you could make it! Drink up, buttercup! Tonight we're gonna have some fun!

[Hm, she appears to be about a bottle in already.]


confusion - now we're enemies

Hey!

[Linda's angry greeting is quickly followed by a pebble beaning you in the back of the head. She's got good aim. She was the fourth grade hoop shoot champion!!

When you turn around, Linda's fuming, her hands on her hips as she stands her ground in front of her house. There's a sign on the door advertising a one-woman show, but there's a list of names under it. These people have been explicitly banned from the performance, and it looks like your name's on it.]

You got a lotta nerve showing your face around this part of town, buster! Beat it!


wildcard

[hmu with whatever!! btw it's mippins hey.]

fear;

[ohhhgod]

[He has no idea what's going on.

That isn't actually all that rare a statement, especially when his kids are concerned, but this is different. That's like . . . not knowing the plot of a tv show episode. This is like not knowing what a tv is, or something. He knows he didn't come here. He definitely knows he didn't black out last night. But even as he takes in the unfamiliar, there's-- well. The familiar, predictably loud and assuringly bossy.

And then frightened, which definitely isn't good.]

It's me! It's me, don't-- Lin, it's--

[Him, please don't attack him with half a wine bottle. She did that once, when he'd come to bed late and she'd thought he was a burglar. It had been painful. Anyway: point is, that's him in the shadows (isn't it? Surely! Never mind that creepy scratching against the stone walls . . .).]

Are you all right? Where's the kids?

[Ah, but that scratching is getting louder. Rhythmic, like talons click, click, clicking above them . . .]

. . . oh, god.

[Nope. Nope, not today, Satan, he doesn't know what the hell that is but they're not going to find out. He glances around. There's a rock on the floor; he grabs it, like he knows what the hell to do with a rock. Bludgeon someone? Sure.]

confusion / friends

[64th]

[ after the Unspeakable Transgression, people would probably find it surprising that Cashmere's been invited to the theatre event of the century, but surprise bitches! her name is on the list!

she accepts the wine gladly, and flashes a large smile. ] I can't wait. I've heard you're very talented. [ for now, it's not even sarcasm. ]

confusion - friends

[caeruleae]

[Aqua generally makes a good first impression, but perhaps there was some kind of misunderstanding when they first met. Perhaps Linda is prejudiced against people with blue hair. Or maybe the invitation reached her completely by accident and she felt it would be rude to turn down?]

Oh—thank you, ma'am, it's very kind of you. [She takes a small sip, and frowns.] I'm sorry, is this alcoholic?

[Disney protagonists do not drink, probably, unless they're subject to peer pressure or it is narratively amusing.]

Edgar Portsnell | The Poe Clan | will match format

[abbatis]

The Colosseum

Scenery changes before him. He's no longer staring into the flames and there's no body of a young unconscious girl on his arms anymore. No, instead of a walls of burning house Edgar is facing an icy and dead ground, surrounded by eerily familiar ruins.

Ah. He knows this place.

"This is getting little bit too cruel", he wheezes and stand up from the ground, wrapping his arms around his tiny frame. Just like always, he can't feel the cold wind on his skin but the sudden change is overwhelming and he feels weak and empty. With his bright blue eyes wide and shocked, he really looked more like a little boy than usually.

"--Allan!" Edgar calls out to the dark, despite knowing there won't be answer. "Allan! Edith!" The sound is sharp and high as he keeps shouting until his voice breaks with a sob. He knows it's no use and that he's just making himself a target for the monsters lurking around but he just doesn't want to be alone. "Someone!"

All around

The city of Hadriel had sure colder, during his absence. Everything looked the same for most part, although it did look a bit different when it was out of tropical environment. The shock from arrival had finally started to fade away as he walked around the city, picking up old memories from here and there. He was clearly undressed for the weather, wearing nothing but his tweed suit that's clearly meant for spring time and seeing other residents feeling the chilly air somehow brought a smug smile on his lips.

"Not much like a tropical paradise, is it?"

Rude notes

"Gods' have been busy." Edgar hums as he watches the colorful and unexpected graffiti all around the town and people's living quarters. Or at least that's who he believed to be behind all the red paint and mockery -- unless the door brought in a pesky poltergeist.

As much as Edgar loved casual pranks and teasing people he was only mildly amused by the cartoon-ish genitalia painted on windows. Although, he had to give it that some of the names he saw written were clever enough to get occasionally a small grin or two from him. He felt for those poor people, it was never nice being mocked like that even if they weren't that serious.

Or so he thought.

Eventually Edgar found his way the house where he had stayed the last time. It was simple curiosity that had led him there. He hadn't formed any kind of emotional connection to the apartment and he couldn't care a less whether it was empty or not. Hadriel wasn't his home... But then again, he didn't have one at his home world anymore, did he?

Edgar freezes when he reaches the outside of his previous house, staring at a gigantic red cross that was painted on his window with a text "Suck It". His stomach dropped at the sign, feeling both hate and fear at the sight of it. That insult was personal. Too personal, anyone who wrote it knew that he was back and more importantly: what he was.

It's all fun and games when it isn't.

A long and heavy moment passes without Edgar moving an inch. But then pursing his red lips together into a thin line he turns around on his heels and begins to walk away.

rude notes!!!

[unheeled]

Whoever's up to this is being really, really rude. Dead girl walking — really? Ugh. Not like it isn't super obvious she's not fully human, but geez, keep the undead thing to yourself.

Rita is walking out of a shop with this bucket of boring, stinky grey paint when she almost knocks into Edgar.

"I swear to god if this paint spills anywhere near me, I'm making you mop it up and use it to paint the graffiti off my tiny house."

Johann - The Adventure Zone: Balance

[plays_despacito]

Two

[Well, if this wasn't his life for some weird shit like this to go down at this point? Honestly, if someone hadn't been nearby snickering about it, he wouldn't have even noticed the words "sad sack of shit" on his house or whatever.

As it stands he's just turning to look at the damage, a brow slowly raising. Wouldn't be the first time Johann had been called something like this, it could always be worse, right? He could just be dead again. And the world in absolute fucking chaos.]

...

That's it? [Of course he's saying it to no one in particular and in the most bored tone on the face of any planet in any planar system.]

Wildcard

[Feel free to hit me up with whatever, my dudes. Y'all that got spoilers on this fuckwit already know where to go with this, I'm sure.]

two

[missiondeterminant]

It seems like a waste of paint.

[Which is clearly the real issue here, although he can't say he disagrees with the unimpressed reaction. That's a pretty weak insult, and only makes the waste of resources more egregious.]

magnus burnsides ; taz: balance ; spoilers

[naturaltwenty]

fear (roll +body)

[ The Starblaster is there, and then it isn't. They're making for another world, as usual, but this time is different. And it's never different, it's always - predictable. It's the shift that brings them back to how they'd been the day they left their home planet - that strange, but now-familiar feeling - and then they're soaring over the face of their next chance to recover the Light of Creation. This time, though, there's none of that. He's on the ship and then he's on the ground, with any middle pieces that explain the transition...gone.

A bearded, muscular man with magnificent sideburns and a red robe is on the ground, face-first. There's a loud groan to announce his presence before he comes to his senses, rolling over and staring petulantly up at the sky above the Colosseum. ]

What...the hell? [ Magnus Burnsides pulls himself to a sitting position, holding his head and wincing. It quickly morphs to something with more of an edge as he rises, grabbing an ax from his hip and looking around with narrowed, bushy brows. ]

Hail and well met, good...uh... [ Krampus is not a "good" anything, and Magnus pulls a face as the creature nearby turns to make eye contact. Candlenights doesn't have a Santa, and it's Star King definitely doesn't look like...whatever this is. ] Yeesh. ...I mean, sorry, handsome lil' buddy! Any chance you could tell me--

[ The creature begins to pelt him with lumps of coal. ]

Hey! Not...cool. [ He's not about to behead this joker just for throwing rocks - yet - but he will hold a shield in front of himself to block the assault, now more than a little confused. ] I just wanted some answers. Or - directions. Can you tell me the name of this world?

[ Doesn't look like it, based on the continued onslaught, but. ]



rage (roll +mind)

Oh, come on!

[ The man, the myth, the disaster - Magnus Burnsides - is standing outside of his house, staring indignantly up at the graffiti on its exterior. "He took the guards with them, left them for the monster" is scrawled across it in red. Next to that is a crude drawing of someone's face, though based on the exaggerated sideburns, it's presumably Magnus himself. ]

That's not even a good drawing. Definitively amateurish. And I don't know anything about any guards... [ He does think hard about it, too, but nothing comes to mind. He heaves a sigh, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. ]

Well, this can't stay here. [ Whatever it means, he won't have it on his home. As such, he disappears inside briefly and then returns with a bucket of water and a rag, working hard to scrub at the paint, but, alas... ]

Dammit. [ Anybody wanna help a guy out? ]



wildcard (roll +heart?)

( ooc ; choose your own adventure! )

taz babies hour

[madamdirector]

Oh, Magnus...

[ Lucretia looks up at the graffiti in display, journals clutched to her chest. Her brow furrows as she, too, tries to interpret the message. Or the accusation.

But like Magnus, she can't think of anything it might be referring to, either, shaking her head in defeat. She hesitates for a moment, then carefully sets her journals aside, hurrying over to his side. ]

Can I help?

lance ( voltron )

[spazzed]

one / fear;

( so, it kind of goes without saying that ending up in really, really random places has kind of been his lot in life since he'd left earth for the first time — maybe a murdercave isn't the weirdest place he could have ended up, but it's definitely near the top of the list. it isn't earth ( at least, he's ninety-nine-point-two percent sure that it isn't ), which means he's going to need to do some wandering around to get his bearings, and if you know anything about this kid right here, you'll understand that that's a pretty bad idea.

but not because he doesn't have any navigational skills. he has those! it's just that he sometimes is possessed of some of the worst luck known to man, and.

the arrival of the anti-santa just kind of adds to that.

he's used to seeing strange-looking aliens, so at the very least he doesn't like. startle himself into a freakout or a panic attack or something else equally lance-like; he does blink a few times, though, like he doesn't really believe what he's saying and the christmas monster just stands there, staring back at him. maybe both of them are waiting for the other to make the first move, or maybe krampus hasn't made his mind up yet about the paladin, or maybe this entire scene is just a heck of a lot more comical than it has any right to be.

is anyone really all that surprised, given the one that's just come through the door, because if you are? you shouldn't be. ) Okay, you're big and scary-looking, I can respect that. ( lance, are you trying to … talk to krampus? what the hell is wrong with you?

he rubs at the back of his head. ) But if you're just gonna stand there looking intimidating, I kinda have other things that need doing. ( like maybe trying to find his friends? or something. he doesn't have time for this.

even though that's a very keith-like line of thought. maybe the dude is rubbing off on him a little. )

two / rage;;

( going to bed in a strange place is an interesting thing all on its own, but he can't exactly say when he wakes up the following morning that he hadn't gotten some good rest. it's odd, like, really odd waking up without that feeling of urgency he's been conditioned to react to, and this place might be odd all on its own, but it's a different kind of odd. not what he's used to, but that kind of goes without saying.

it's a nice morning, all things considered. he moseys around the new place, takes his time in waking up like he hasn't really been able to ever since becoming a paladin ( alarms and all that, there are always going to be memories of being shocked awake by drills too early in the morning back on the castle-ship, and the memory of that alone brings about a pang of nostalgia he's not entirely prepared for, because it seems like forever ago ) and he eventually moseys his way outside, stretching his arms above his and greeting the new day with a nice, big, exaggerated yawn.

until he sees it.

CARGO PILOT. in giant, bold letters across the front of the place, and he's both stunned and confused enough at first that it takes him a second to react. ) What the quiznak!?

( he stares at it, blinks, stares some more. looks so many levels of incredulous that it's almost funny, because his eyes are wide as dinner plates and it looks like he might be well on his way to having a stroke.

because that's just rude. that was a thousand years ago it doesn't matter now he's a paladin of voltron and excuse whoever did this??? )

three / wildcard;;;

( choose your own adventure, there are no wrong decisions here. )

One. LANCE WHY

[marmoron]

[If you were to ask Keith what the hell he's doing hanging around the Colosseum, his answer would be something along the lines of "keeping watch." It only makes sense -- he had the dubious pleasure of waking up here with giant scorpions. Whatever it is that the door sees fit to drag into Hadriel this time around, it's best to be prepared for it. Know your enemy and all that.

In other words his presence here has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he's maybe concerned that someone he knows might be amongst those unfortunate enough to be here because ...well why would they be? Aside from not wanting anyone he knows trapped here indefinitely, having any kind of optimism about being reunited with anyone he cared about either at home or at Cartesio is dangerous territory; Keith knows better than that.

He approaches the interior of the Colosseum with his bayard already activated with Cosmo at his side. The fact that there isn't a swarm of monsters around doesn't really seem to be putting a dent in his mood because instead there's thi other freakish looking thing staring down a very familiar someone wearing a very familiar suit of blue armor.

He shouldn't be freezing. He has no idea what the fuck that creature is or why Lance is apparently talking to it, but all of his questions can just wait until after he's sure the guy isn't about to be gutted in front of him. Keith takes off at a sprint, approaching fast.]

Lance, get away from it!

Red Wine | Food Fantasy

[judgementor]

i. SCENARIO ONE: HE MADE HIS LIST

I suppose this is supposed to frighten me?

[The haughty, utterly unimpressed phrase comes from a young man with dark hair and wine-red eyes, dressed far too ornately for this kind of setting. He carries himself with the air of someone so certain of his own importance that nothing could possibly knock his confidence, and the creature standing before him certainly isn't succeeding.

If anything, the person that Krampus is trying to terrify sounds bored.

Bored, but alert enough to the potential danger here to draw his sword with a flourish, pointing it directly at the being before him.]

En garde, let us see which of us is more deserving of this stage.

[If you happen to be nearby, looking terrified or lost, he will break his attention from Krampus for a moment long enough to catch your eye and move his head, calling out a 'get behind me if you're to be no use in this fight'. If you look capable, well, why aren't you helping?]

ii. SCENARIO TWO: HADRIELITE VANDAL

[Honestly, he's had worse things said to him in the street, but something about the phrasing of what's written across the door is getting under his skin.

DEMON

His lip curls slightly as he looks at it, the colour near-matching the shade of his eyes, and as he hears footfalls behind him his shoulders tense almost imperceptibly.]

I shan't be giving them any points for imagination, but this is annoying.

iii. wildcard?

2

[battlebound]

( Steak, being Steak, sees one very simple solution to the graffiti on his door: removing the whole door. He attempted cleaning, but whatever cleaning products still remain in this half-abandoned city don't do the job well enough.

Thus, the nuclear option.

He's walking down the stairs with the door in hand when he very nearly rams the edge of it into a standing Red Wine, and it's not entirely certain whether Steak intended to do that or not. All that is certain is the derisive huff as he looks at Red Wine's door. )

Nonsense.

( Demon is hardly the word to describe this Food Soul. )

Bastard would be more fitting.

Dantalion Shadowline | D&D oc

[seesthroughme]

I. Fear
[Perhaps some might find the Krampus terrifying or unsettling at least, but considering his current prey is a Tiefling... Well. Dantalion is far less than impressed. The creature spotted him as he was exploring and chose to single him out for an almost endless list of bad deeds from this year alone. But the warlock doesn't know that, what he DOES know is that something ugly is bothering him and he would like for it to stop.

Krampus lunges forward, attempting to make a grab that he just barely manages to avoid by practically ducking and stumbling away from. Once he regains his balance he gestures with a hand, conjuring a floating book over his fingers that flips open just as a single eerie violet eye blinks to life on the cover. With a snap of his fingers a black flame coalesces from nothingness before firing at the Krampus, who leaps out of the way with only minor singing.

Instead the blast lands mere inches from a passerby, nearly causing some nasty collateral damage. Dantalion seems completely ignorant of this and just resumes firing spells at the creature. Sorry, hope you're as good at evading magic as Krampus.]

II. Rage
[The warlock is no stranger to insults, he really isn't. He's done a good deal of unpleasant things in his life, and once that's coupled with the incidents of his life growing up it's all rather par for the course. But there are some terms that do nag at him more than others, and one is presently scrawled haphazardly across his home when he comes outside:

"Impostor"

... Tch. Well he's certainly not going to be seen trying to clean it off- that would be the same as him acknowledging that it exists in the first place. And acknowledging that it's about him. But before he can go about trying to willfully ignore the slight Dantalion turns and catches sight of someone passing by who lingered just a little too long for his tastes. Silver eyes narrow and he fixes the stranger with a glare.]

... What?

III. Wildcard
[ooc: Feel free to hit me up on Plurk trickeryesque or DM me if you want to plot. Or just do anything random, he'll likely be wandering here and there.]

II. A TIEFLING WARLOCK YOU SAY??

[abyssalarcana]

[Said stranger has indeed lingered. At first, Caedra was simply doing a double-take. This place is so over-full with humans that anyone obviously different stands out dramatically, and having been here for who knows how long, she has started to become far more used to that absolutely boring monotony. Nothing at all like the Abyss, where she is the anomaly for her remarkably human-like form.

But the double-take turns instead to her standing there, waiting. Observing. Is this one tiefling or fiend? Or something else entirely? Does it know its lineage, or is it like Hayden, who seems to be confused about which part of the lower planes he comes from?

On being acknowledged, she smirks a little and tips her head in greeting.]

That written there, is that directed at you?

Rhys | Dragon Age

[wisperer]

I. Fear

[ It did not matter to Rhys that this strange turn of events made little sense; all thought and worry over his new surroundings was background noise to the chaos around him. There were wicked beasts roaming, lagging tongues wet with desire as they chase their prey. They were rats, panicked, in a large bowl of hungry snakes. Rhys takes no time to react, spinning his staff, hurling bolts of electrical energy at one of the towering beasts chasing some helpless stranger.

Just one hit is enough to draw the attention of the dark monster from its prey to its attacker, its twisted, sloppy expression stomach churning. Thedas had a vast amount of creatures, from the simple ram to monstrous dragons and even things from beyond, but nothing like this to his admittedly small (though wide in comparison to some) breadth of knowledge. It's possible it's some twisted spirit he's never encountered before. ]

Run! [ He shouts, his voice commanding. His posture, his readiness, makes it clear this is far from his first tussle with something awful and unknown to him. ] Run while I have its attention!

[ Rhys is confident in his skills to slay this beast, even while his brain deals with the fogginess of the whole situation. ]

II. Rage

[ There it was, in large, bold letters: Rhys' mother is a whore!

This would normally roll off of Rhys’ skin like water off the feathers of a duck. He'd spent a time of his teenagehood within the Tevinter Imperium and the insults the other mages there, all bullies, would hurl were far worse and far more demeaning. A whore, was she? As an orphan, he'd heard far worse. Creative, he would have thought sarcastically. His mother's death, however, was still a fresh sore picking at his heart and the fact that anyone would even dare insinuate such a thing riles him.

He wastes no time getting to the laborious work of washing the gross vandalism from the face of his current abode, gathering water from the lake, a thick boar bristled brush, and even a shaky ladder that appeared more dangerous than useful. He scrubs at the paint with fury, all while muttering. ] Maker’s breath, what sort of nug humper...!

[ He continues to mumble insults and curses. Whose rations did he piss in to get an enemy? Let alone one so petty or daring. ]

II.

[theladyofhighever]

[Mariane is passing by when she sees it. the cruel words painted on the side of a building. she's still new here, but it seems as though every time she turns around, this place finds a new way to offend her sensibilities.

she approaches, intending to offer her assistance, but as she gets closer she hears his words. could it be that this stranger was from her world? he'd almost have to be, given his references to the Maker and nugs.

she stands behind him and clears her throat to get his attention]

Pardon me, but may I help?

[blessedmaiden]

[Scenario 1 - Through the door once more]

[When Rydia whispered to Edge "How I wish for a hole to open under my feet and drag me away from here.." she was merely joking, annoyed by the formalities of the night and by the fact she had been forced to wear a dress, something she had never been too fond of- she wasn't expecting for something to literally open under her feet and to sweep her away. One moment she was awkwardly planning her escape from a crowd of nobles with her ninja friend and two young mages from Mysidia and the other Rydia was face down against a rather cold stone floor.]

Holy Bahamuth, who ever thought this-

[As soon as she pushed herself up the summoner knew exactly where she was and what was happening: she wasn't unfamiliar with the Coliseum and she remembered the underground(?) city it was in. Well, wonderful... but no time to dwell on her frustration or question why while at home she apparently forgot about the place while back home- if the door was bringing people in then she was also probably in danger. And all Rydia had with her was a dress not fit for combat while her whip still rested in Rosa's quarters.]

Let's see if-

[Menacing rumors behind her informed the summoner it was too late to sneak away and she just turned to face the horned creature- one of the perks of being a mage was never being completely powerless. And hopefully she was going to be able to stop that... thing for long enough to escape back in the streets.]

[Scenario two - Wait that's an insult?]

[While Rydia didn't really mind insults as a whole, finding most of them generally childish and stupid, some things could still get under her skin- even if You're just an hairless monkey is probably the less offensive thing normal people could imagine. It's still how young monsters used to call her when she was just a child in the feymarch and still had no chance to prove herself surpassing one of the summon's trials. Hornless, clawless- all things that bring back the frustration of those days. Silly? It probably was, still the summoner found herself tightening her grip around her arms.]

Well, great...

[Now she was angry with what had been written and even more with herself because she let such a stupid thing get to her.]

[Scenario 3 - Friends or foes? Probably foes.]

Shesh... conversations like this one are the reason sometimes I stop to wonder why I even waste time with you.

[The summoner just threw her arms up with a sigh, why didn't she notice sooner what a horrible person she was hanging with? Why did they even decide to become friends in the first place? It didn't matter, she just wanted that 'friendship' to be over. Now.]

[Scenario 3 - Friends or foes? Probably friends.]

Has anyone ever told you how amazing you are?

[It was no mistery that she was enjoying the company, the stupid smile plastered on her face was a big giveaway, but Rydia had always been vocal about her feelings- at least the positive ones- and she just wanted the other person to know how great she was feeling about that newborn friendship.]

[Wildcard]

Hit me with whatever you want?

probably friends

[unfollowing]

All the time.

[ That's a lie, most people here tell her to stop being a huge asshole. W h a t e v e r. ]

But like, you never get tired of hearing that. I mean, you're so cute. Why did we never hang out before? We should go shopping together. I bet you have great taste in clothes.

vale racto | original....character.....

[omegalomaniac]

i. you better watch out YOU BETTER WATCH OUT YOU BETTER

[Opening their eyes turns out to be - a bad idea. A very bad idea. The brightness of the overhead sky immediately inflicts them with a migraine-level headache, their eyes burning in their skull like live coals, or some equally fucked up analogy.]

[The sky shouldn't be bright, because the sky has never been bright. For millennia, now, the sky has been dark, cast into perpetual night and tormented by the storms that howled across the planet's surface, powdery nebulas of red sand thrown up across the Wastes and speckling the air.]

[The sky shouldn't be bright.]

[Pain comes the same way it always does; grindingly and achingly familiar, settling across their nerves and down their spine and up beyond every clenched, contracted muscle, every trembling nerve. The headache is noteworthy in that it is not the typical kind of pain they've come to accept as normal. Their body feels as though it is ninety percent scar tissue, on a good day, and the ache that suffuses their bones is chronic and far-reaching and forever.]

[The sky is also, fortunately, overcast, which makes it brighter than they are accustomed, but once the sun ducks behind the dark floss of a cloud, that makes the visual of the city marginally more bearable. And it is, in fact, a city. Not the sleek, modern aesthetic they've come to recognize as something almost like home, because home is a dangerous thought, but strange and spiraling buildings piled atop one another, spread across a cast of islands in a way that they should find unsettling.]

[Something stooped and horned and snarling rounds a corner, and makes for them. It looks like an atrocious blend of two souls at disharmony, but the fact that it doesn't speak in any sort of recognizable language is a fair hint as to its nature.]

[They get up.]

[Vale Racto gets up.]

[Vale Racto gets up and it hurts in the way all things hurt, their breath hitching in their chest like a bud tightly furled, their heart squeezing a sluggish rhythm against the cage of their ribs. The effort it requires is powering through the press and fall of their own inertia mantled across their bones and it tints their vision red. The shape hobbles closer, reaching out with a set of curved claws, and they try to take a moment to study its soul, and that, that is when the sheer, voidlike emptiness that gapes in their head well and truly engulfs them; the emptiness that they had not wanted to acknowledge as fact, when they awoke, but had been the first thing they noticed. The other shape that should dwell in the nest of their soul - is gone. There is only a raw and aching nothingness where they should be hearing their words, the tone of their thoughts, the nature of their perception.]

[The intensity of it lays them low, blindsides them so utterly that they can do nothing to prevent the sweep and press of claws that curl around their throat and hoist them, legs dangling, into the air.]

[But through the disorientation, through the physical pain that is perpetual and bearable, through the metaphysical pain that is not new and perhaps slightly less bearable, through the slow, steady compression of their windpipe, Racto's hand digs into their pocket and pulls out something that they know is in there and it is a lighter. And they only have one shot at this so they marshal themself against the excruciating barrier that threatens to section away their thoughts and they focus through it and click it on because this is what they do and have always done: think through it.]

[They click the lighter on and thrust that single, stilling flame into the Krampus's eye.]

[They lose the lighter but they land on the ground when it releases them and manage to catch themself on all fours and power forward, alarmingly nimble for someone who looks to be in their late forties or mid-fifties at least - and for someone who is in as much pain as they currently are.]

[They're not going to get rid of this thing without help, and they certainly can't run forever.]

[Fortunately, they're used to running from things a great deal worse than this. Just - not under these circumstances.]

ii. you know What You Did

[Settling in has not been a process they can strictly call "efficient" or even very adept. They have relocated before. They have swapped cities. They have traveled across the vast and tumultuous expanse of their planet in an effort to escape those that would wish them harm - often justifiably so.]

[They've just never had to do it alone.]

[The lack of another voice in their soul is an absence too weighty to ignore. The headaches are frequent, but so is everything; so is the steady, dull ache that makes getting up each day a difficult task unto itself.]

[The presence of graffiti alone doesn't particularly manage to interrupt the tangled cast of their own thoughts. It's more what it says that arrests them, and this catches their attention purely because of the unique nature of what it says, and the fact that it probably would not be significant to anyone else:]

SPLINTER
[To which Racto sighs, trying without success to dismiss the tension that rolls up their shoulders and tightens their back.]

[They didn't last this long by drawing this kind of attention to themself.]

wildcard hit me etc.

[please let me know if anything isn't clear and you need some background on how this fella's world works (im working on a comprehensive write up i swear it's just taking time) also you can contact me by pm or at arrpee]

ii.

[standformyself]

[She comes as she goes as she pleases, sleeping here and there ever since the departure of Atem. It's not that the Dog requires a place to sleep anyway, although perhaps she had become a little spoiled with her mistress, Lirael. Even then, there had been nights in the wild, curled up in a tight little ball, giving the semblance of sleep. In that regard, her and Mogget share a similar trait, although she hadn't needed to be bound by a bell.

The Dog has already been up for hours, poking about and chasing the burrowing creatures outside the city. A morning exercise, if one will, although she carefully fills each hole once she is done. No point in having someone accidentally hurt themselves.

She's black and tan, a little dirty, with pointed ears and medium size. A mongrel, really, if one were to guess a breed, although her tongue lolls easily from one side and her tail wags back and forth as she trots towards the range. Today though something does seem to be up, and coming across another individual, her head cocks a little. Those jovial brown eyes move from the word, to the being, back once more, before she takes a seated position, looking back to the one standing there.]

You've a splinter? There is a clinic, if you require medical attention. No need to be so big about it.

Sabriel | Old Kingdom

[bindsthedead]

Fear; Krampus

[Sabriel's first response to suddenly arriving in a strange place, only to be confronted by a hairy, snarling thing is to draw her sword and reach into the Charter, the rush of marks a reassuring even under these circumstances, even as she traces out marks of fire and blasting, her voice betraying little of her own panic.]

Stay back! I don't want to harm you, but if you leave me no choice-

[It doesn't. The marks flare on Sabriel's sword as she parries a strike, then scrambles back, trying to gain some distance so she doesn't get burned by her own spell- only to stumble into someone else.]

What-

Rage; Necromancer

['Necromancer'. It's painted over the door of where she's tried to settle in. Scrubbing with soap and water doesn't do anything, and trying to erase it with a spell just makes nearby electronics and machines shut down for a few minutes. Sabriel frowns.

She's never made a secret of what her father taught her- especially in the Old Kingdom, where everyone knew what the bells meant- but she didn't raise the Dead, she laid them to rest. And now that she understood more of her father's work, what 'Abhorsen' meant...]

Perhaps I should get more paint, and add 'Enemy of'.

Wildcard

[go ahead!]

rage;

[themogget]

That's one way to deal with the problem.

[Mogget, of no fixed abode, has not woken up to find anything scrawled anywhere that might pertain to him. Or perhaps he did, and he simply didn't care to pay any attention to it.

He appears in the way that he always does, as if out of nowhere and lightly winding his way between Sabriel's ankles. The cat sits, regards the writing with slightly narrowed green eyes, then turns his attention to cleaning one small, pink-padded paw. The bell at his throat rings gently, and he pauses to yawn, speaking around it in a soft yowl.]

Or you could fix something over it.

[Why didn't you think of that, Sabriel?]

Beric Dondarrion | Game of Thrones

[sixtimesdead]

One

Beric has seen some strange things in his time. He's seen dragons, wights controlled by the Night King, and visions of the future in the flames. Hell, he is a strange thing himself after coming back to life so many times. But this thing...he's never seen anything quite like it before.

When the hairy black thing with the horns of a goat and claws comes close, he doesn't bother with trying to warn it or to flee. Instead, he runs a hand over his sword and it ignites into flames. If Krampus wants to take him on, that's fine by Beric.

"I've fought bigger and uglier than you. So come on!"

Then he swings the sword at the creature, intending to lop off one of those clawed hands.

Two

[When Beric awakes and goes outside, he finds that someone's been busy during the night, writing a couple different insulting phrases on the outside of his walls. The first is a single word, one that gets a mere nonplussed reaction from Beric.]

Outlaw.

[Well, no lie there. He is one and proud of it, has been for quite a few years now. Whoever did this will have to try harder than that to ruffle his feathers. Then he sees the second word.]

Undead.

[That one he doesn't take as gracefully. He's been very aware of the similarities between him and the wights for quite some time. After all, they both come back from the dead. The difference is that his resurrection is powered by fire and the wights by ice. Also, his god let him keep his own mind instead of turning into a shuffling being with no thoughts of their own.

But still...the idea that he has anything in common with the creatures hellbent on destroying his world rankles him. He'll find who did this later and teach them a lesson in respect. But first he's going to see if some scrubbing will get rid of the words.]

Wildcard

[Plot something out with me here or at Light_shade]

two

[roseofthetyrells]

[Margaery has been . . . distracted lately. she's been trying not to be a bother about it, to at least keep up appearances, but it's difficult. her smiles don't come as easily, her voice isn't as bright and charming, even her actions have been slower, as though she's sleepwalking throughout the days.

it's by mere chance that she looks up to see the man and the words on the wall. curious. so she approaches the man slowly. the look in her eyes is a bit distracted, her voice a trifle slow]

...it seems as though the so-called gods are up to their usual tricks.