dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #40

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!test drive

Test Drive Meme #40

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 January 24th, and apps are open February 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: SLURP SLURP
[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.

What's that on the ceiling? Who's that skittering along the wall? Why, it's none other than the the Licker, from the Resident Evil series.

The licker crawls around on walls and ceilings and can easily avoid all attacks with their creepy crawly acrobatics. Watch out for those tongues, though- they can whip you with them and catch you off balance. They love waiting in dark corners to jump at you and slash you with their oversized claws, as seen here. Luckily, their brains are exposed and they're quite blind- move quietly and avoid their notice, or attack them in their weak spot to get away safely. Be careful though, they tend to travel in packs...]

T R A N Q U I L I T Y

SCENARIO TWO: CABIN IN THE WOODS
[It's nice outside. There's a heat to the air that permeates through the muggy interior of the cabin, but at night, it's cool enough that you can relax and see all the stars in the sky. The hot tub is a nice contrast to the chilly night air and the possibilities are practically limitless!

So cook something up on the grill, go hunting, or just relax and definitely don't get murdered, because you do happen to have a bit of an odd cabin mate. Why are the two of you sharing this cabin? Well, that's up for you to decide, but whether you're close friends who decided to take a vacation together or random strangers stuck together by circumstances, you're here for awhile so you might as well take the time to relax and get to know one another up here in these mountains!]

R A G E

SCENARIO THREE: MONSTER HOUSE
[It seems like you've just misplaced a few items at first- but after awhile, it becomes apparent that the items are misplacing themselves. Weird, right?

Maybe not that weird, because soon afterward, items of all shames and sizes start to move around, now well within sight. Their intent is clearly to annoy or even harm you, depending on how dangerous the item is... maybe a deathly pair of pants, to a set of keys that keeps running away from you, to a house consumed with the desire to- well, consume you.

Be careful of everything, be suspicious of items that may be trying to lure you in with their stillness, and have fun! This event is based on Hadriel's It's Aliiiive! event this month.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Well, it's been a while since he's seen one of those. Ephemera kept expecting the Covenant to come through the Door sooner or later, because why wouldn't they? But instead it's been dragons and zombies and one time there were plant monsters, things that screamed and fought and eventually died. He's gotten used to killing those. Sometimes it's fun. But it's not like the war. He hasn't fought the Covenant in years.

Today's different. That's fun.

There's a Zealot getting back up. And it does not look friendly. Looks like it's about to smash the newcomer.

Ephemera lifts up his arm and whistles. The Zealot turns with the growl. ]

Hi.

[ A couple things are universal, no matter what. One of them is thus: Fire Bad. Napalm Worse. Ephemera's always been fond of simple solutions. A face full of napalm never fails to get anyone's attention. No matter how well trained, no matter how good their armor is, everybody stands up and pays attention. Never failed before.

And it doesn't fail now. The Zealot goes staggering back, screeching and clawing at its face. ]

War's over, motherfucker. You stand down or -

[ It screeches. Starts advancing.

Okay. No truce today.

Ephemera just sighs and lifts his rifle. Shoots it in the head. Hopes he hasn't done something really stupid that he'll have to explain to Washington or Tucker later. ]

Oi! You still alive over there?

[ Looks like a newcomer in tactical gear, though no armor he recognizes. Pretty much a miracle if they're still standing after tangling with a Zealot. For his part, Ephemera is clad entirely in a set of black and red armor, an assault rifle held at the ready. He wears no symbol of rank or allegiance. Only the wrist mounted flamethrowers, which disengage back into his gauntlets. ]

[ For a second Chyler just looks up at him from her position on the ground, eyes huge, face smeared with dirt and sweat.

This stranger took out the monster like it was nothing. For a second all she can think about are the corpses of students, soldiers, ODSTs. And this person took out that thing in a moment.

She gets to her feet in increments, scanning their surroundings. There are sounds of combat, but she can't tell where they're coming from. The tunnel they're in is a big, arched stone thing, more shadow than not.

Once she's up, all five-foot-three of her, it takes her a moment to speak. ]

Where are we?

[ Well, fuck him. It's a kid. A kid fully kitted out in tactical gear, but -

Yeah. Fuck him. Last time this happened it hadn't gone well at all.

Ephemera takes a deep breath and lets that go. It's not relevant here. Isn't going to be helpful. ]

It's called Hadriel. You hurt?

[ She's upright, so that's something. Ephemera can't tell if she's genuinely calm or just in shock; hard to know, with kids. ]

Had-- [ She looks around her, rolling her shoulders to bring her rifle back into her hands. The fact that it's empty doesn't take away the comfort of its weight.

It's a struggle just to get her bearings. She's never heard of Hadriel, not as relates to any part of the UEG. ]

I'm... I'm fine.

[ She draws in a sharp breath, trying to orient on the sounds of fighting. ]

I need to find-- My squad was right in front of me. [ She looks back up at him, fierceness creeping in where confusion was a moment ago. ] I need to find the rest of them. There were three others left, plus Master Chief. He's hard to miss.

[ Ah. There's the edge. She's a fighter, too. Young, sure, but a fighter first. She's got the look - in her eyes, the way she holds herself.

Good, Ephemera thinks. That's very good. ]

Listen to me. We're in a combat zone, so there isn't a lot of time to explain. But you're not where you were. You and the Zealot got pulled in from the Door. It doesn't usually bring groups.

[ He turns in a half circle, HUD scanning for moment. Nothing closing in. Yet. ]

You want answers, I'll give them once we're clear. But we need to move. Okay?

[ The Zealot, the Door. Zealot--that thing was a Zealot, whatever that means.

Her sensible self snaps: It doesn't matter what it's called. He gave you a promise and an order.

She nods, tightening her grip on her gun. ]

I'm out. That's why I tried to use that weapon.

Edited 2019-01-22 16:24 (UTC)

[ It still gives Ephemera an edgy, uneasy feeling whenever kids act like soldiers. Sometimes they're good at it. Sometimes they're even better than the professionals. But it always makes him feel uneasy, off balance.

Ignore that. There's a job to do. ]

You manage to fire it?

[ Ephemera doesn't like using Covenant weapons. They malfunction and they're a pain in the ass to fix. But apparently the kid's adaptable. ]

If you can handle it, fine. If not, you're taking my sidearm.

[ No time for arguing. They've got to move. ]

[ She swings her rifle back around on its strap, unwilling to give it up even if it's useless at the moment. She accepts the sidearm and falls in just behind and to his left, heart pounding, relieved to have someone who knows what's going on to take point. She doesn't introduce herself, doesn't ask which way they're going. Introductions are a waste of time, and if one or both of them dies they wouldn't matter anyway. As far as direction, he knows better than she does.

She keeps an eye to the rear, staying close but not so close that he can't maneuver if something comes at them from behind. She's good at this. She was raised to be good at this. That's the mantra she repeats in her head as they move.

Something shifts in the dark, along the ceiling, and she takes aim at the spot. She doesn't want to shoot until she knows what to target.

In a whisper: ] Your ten o'clock.

I see it.

[ His HUD is scanning constantly, identifying the target. Nightvision is a great thing in Hadriel, though a little less now that they're out of the caves. Motion tracking, however, remains god, and points out the target immediately. It's another one of those weird monsters, all teeth and tongue. Flavor of the month. Ephemera shifts for a better position, lining up a headshot. Easier just to be cautious, conserve ammo. Normally he wouldn't bother, but he doesn't want the kid to get hurt. That's one of the rules. You protect the newbies until they're straightened up enough to do it themselves. ]

If it gets back up, kill it.

[ Then he fires. ]

[ There's immediate motion in several different directions, creatures shrieking and hissing as they close in. A tongue lances out of the dark and cuts open Chyler's cheek. She follows the angle of the slimy thing back toward its owner and fires into the dark, the muzzle flash revealing a direct hit as the thing topples from the ceiling. She's the best marksman in her class, second-best in the Academy. In a perfect world she would have taken that top spot before everything went to hell.

Another tongue wraps around her ankle, cutting into the top of her boot and yanking her down, dragging her away from Ephemera's side. She can't get a clear shot at the thing, between the dark and the angle and the fact that she's being pulled over the rock-strewn and jagged ground.

A lance of panic hits her, and then she's faced with the creature's open mouth and exposed brain. ]

[ Ah, fuck. Of course it goes to hell. Can't be easy, no. It never goes down easy.

This is why he doesn't like doing patrol for the newcomers. He doesn't know them, doesn't know how they'll react. If it were Drake or Lup, or even Washington, Ephemera would know exactly how to move. Newcomers are blank slates. Some of them have training and that helps, sure, but they don't know.

These monsters are blind but far from dumb, and one of them has the kid by the foot, dragging her. This is why people need to wear armor, Ephemera thinks to himself. Decent armor, with good weight, so they can't be knocked over so easily. He whistles sharply.

The thing with the teeth jerks its head up. Listening. It's enough to line up another shot.

He probably gets gore on the kid, but she's still breathing. That's gotta be enough.

Ephemera offers her a hand. ]

There you go. Good shot.

[ It's not empty praise. She's got a good eye, sharp aim. His voice is calm and - perhaps - strangely casual. It's better not to take these things too hard. ]

[ She takes a deep breath as he helps her get to her feet, fighting the winded feeling left behind by hitting the ground. Her ankle stings, probably twisted, but she's had worse on the obstacle courses at Corbulo. ]

Thank you.

[ It's the polite thing to say, even if she's beating herself up for not acting fast enough to shoot the thing that almost got her.

The rest of the trip out of the tunnel is quiet, uneventful in comparison to the first few minutes. When the sun hits Chyler's face it's a shock, as is the sudden rush of freezing wind. She's in her spring uniform, which does very little to cut the cold.

It's so bright. She'd been starting to think she was never going to see the sun again.

Chyler shivers. ]

Are we clear?

Yeah.

[ Nothing's been tough or stupid enough to go this close to the city, not when they'd be spotted from a long way off and Hadriel's got enough sharpshooters to make an approach of that kind interesting.

Ephemera glances at the kid, noticing to his faint surprise that she's shivering.

Oh, right. His armor is climate controlled. Hers clearly isn't. And she's not dressed for the cold. ]

Okay. Got a couple options here. I can cut you loose and you can do your own thing. Civilization's that way. Not a lot of power, but it'll be warmer than staying out here. Or you can come to my place, I'll get you some clothes, maybe something hot to drink, and I can explain this shit. Up to you.

[ A pause. ]

Name's Ephemera. Probably should've said that earlier.

Cadet Chyler Silva. [ She says her rank automatically, clinging to formality when nothing else makes sense. She looks back where they came from, then toward "civilization."

This soldier hasn't killed her, hasn't let her die, and looks like he might be an ODST.

And he knows what the monster that killed Junjie and Vickers was called. ]

I'll stay with you, sir.

[ No matter what this guy's name is, no matter what his rank is, he has to be more important than a cadet. ]

[ Cadet. Hnn. Probably one of the military academies. Ephemera hums to himself, nodding. ]

Okay. C'mon, Silva.

[ He leads the way toward the Spires, largely silent. There's not much he can think to say without making the moment indefinitely more complicated, which he'd rather not until there's coffee involved. Silva came in with a Covenant soldier, with a Covenant rifle. Acted like she'd seen action with it, and the Zealot sure as fuck wasn't playing friendly. So, she's from the war. Maybe early days, given her lack of armor. Or maybe from one of the outer colonies who never managed to get their people properly equipped.

That's - great. And going to get complicated, fast, if he doesn't explain things just right. Of course it has to be him who does it, too. It'd be easier if Carolina or somebody else did it, but nope. He's got the kid following him like he's got all the answers, calling him sir like it comes natural.

So, things could be better.

The apartment he leads her to is small and chaotic. Drop clothes and paint cans everywhere, obviously lived in. There are murals on every wall, galaxies exploding into color, cityscapes down in sharp blue and black, the view of a free fall from zero g above a green, grassy planet. A pelican entering orbit. There are sketches tacked around the murals, less colorful, but no less lively. Men and women in ODST armor, the same squad over and over again. Grinning and laughing, an easy camaraderie between them.

Ephemera drops a rag over the canvas he's working on before Silva can get a good look at it. Explaining Tucker's kid is one of those complicated things that'll have to wait until later.

In the meantime, he pulls his helmet off and runs a hand through his hair.

His face is what it is. If she stares, well. She'll get an eyeful of what happens after a person takes a gravity hammer straight on and then gets set on fire, then has a building dropped on them. ]

Adrenaline's probably wearing off. You breathing okay? No injury you didn't notice earlier?

[ This isn't the kind of space she expected of someone with a military background. She studies the walls with open curiosity as they walk in, too tired to keep herself from looking. The paintings are good, as are the sketches, or she thinks they are. She's never really been any kind of judge of art.

She's distracted enough by the walls that she doesn't even catch a glimpse of what's on the canvas, though she does look at it curiously as he pulls his helmet off.

His appearance gets a blink, and not much more. Growing up where she did, damaged bodies were fairly common. Missing limbs, burns, bullet wounds. Ephemera's injuries are worse than most, but she's not about to draw attention to them. That kind of curiosity isn't her business.

She shifts on her feet, taking stock of her own injuries. She can feel bruises pretty much everywhere. Cuts and scrapes stinging with sweat and dirt and cold. He ankle hurts less now than it did in the caverns, but she chalks that up to the cold. She'll have to get a look at it before she can judge the damage properly.

But she can feel the adrenaline crash creeping in. The edge of tiredness, the way her senses are starting to dull. She resists the urge to scrub at her face to wake herself up. ]

No, sir. I'm fine. [ A pause. ] Are all of these yours?

Uh huh.

[ He nods briefly at the walls. It's something he's always done. First he learned how to paint his armor and then he learned more. It's a way to focus, a way to remember things that have gone by and the people he's lost. Easier to deal with the ghosts when you can sketch them out. Take some of the mystery out.

In the meantime, he starts fussing around the kitchen for something hot. Coffee with lots of sugar, he thinks. So she doesn't crash too hard. Then something with calories. Fuck, what do they have in the fridge?

He digs out a chocolate bar, in the meantime, and tosses it at her. ]

Eat. It'll make you feel better.

[ He keeps his good eye on her, just in case. She's a stranger in his space, the apartment he shares with Drake. She's a kid, sure, but UNSC cadets aren't kittens. They've got claws and know how to use them. ]

That your first time tangling with the Covenant?

[ She fumbles the catch slightly, surprised both by the chocolate and by the question. Chocolate is less rare of a commodity at Corbulo, but it's still rare enough not to throw around, and definitely not to share. Unless you've got someone in particular to share it with.

She peels the wrapper back and bites into it, savoring the tastes for just long enough not to be rude before she swallows. ]

Yes, sir. [ She hesitates, but only for a moment. ] That's what those things are called? The one that came with me, you said it was a Zealot.

You don't have to call me sir.

[ Despite some lessons, Ephemera still can't cook for shit. He grabs a can of soup and starts getting that ready. Something hot and loaded with protein to warm the kid up. That's good, right? He hasn't fucked up soup yet. ]

Yeah. Army's called the Covenant. Couple different groups pulled together. Turns out aliens are real. The one you saw, they're the Sangheili. Zealots are their front line officers.

[ He shrugs. Turns the heat up on the soup. He'll have to find Silva a coat and some decent boots before too long. It'd be better to kit her up in full armor, but the gods aren't that generous. So he'll make do. Probably send her over to Washington, he's supposedly good with cadets. ]

There's a war. Goes on for a while, then we get a truce. With me so far?

[ She stays silent, head spinning. The Covenant. Aliens. Sangheili Zealots. Hadriel. She can barely get a grip on it all.

(She thinks she can get a grip on it all, but the truth is she can't. She can barely think through the haze of confusion and fading adrenaline, through the worry about her squad and the fact that somehow she took a wrong step and ended up somewhere caught in the dead of winter.)

She takes another bite of the chocolate, half because she wants to and half because it's something to do other than stand and stare.

Finally: ]

I'm sorry, I don't think I am.

[ Well, fuck. Ephemera tips his head back and sighs. He wants a cigarette, badly. He's not good at this sort of thing, explaining shit to people. Give him a combat situation and he can navigate out of it just fine, but spelling out the history of a thing never came easily to him. Probably why he flunked that class in high school. ]

Okay. I'm not good at explaining shit. Got my head knocked around, so I miss things sometimes.

[ Which doesn't tell her anything helpful, either. Get it together. ]

Right now? You're in Hadriel. A whole lotta people got pulled in here from different places, like you and that Zealot. I'm pretty sure we come from the same universe, or whatever, but - I'm guessing I'm from a different time. Where I'm from, war's been over a while. Seems like it just started for you.

[ Ephemera rubs a hand over his good eye with a groan. ]

Look. I'm not good at this shit. But you should eat something. You wanna ask me questions, I'll answer as best I can.

[ No, nope, that definitely does not help anything make more sense. She's just going to latch on to the part of the instructions she can understand: eat. She can do that.

She makes her way over to Ephemera, eating the chocolate as she does, switching which hand holds the candy so she can lick the melted bits off her fingertips. It's not dignified, but it's chocolate, and she's starting to get ravenously hungry.

Chyler stops a short but respectful distance from the stove. ]

I should say thank you, first. For helping me.

[ Okay. At least one part of that seemed to get through. Food's universal. Everybody gets hungry and she went through that chocolate with the speed only somebody coming down from the high of a fight can manage. Ephemera's been there.

He offers her a bowl. There's meat and noodles in the soup. Not fine dining by any standards, but it'll help to get something in her.

He eyes her for a moment. Fuck, she's tiny. ]

Okay. You're welcome.

[ She's quite suddenly salivating. No, it might not be find dining, but she accepts the bowl with care... and finds herself devouring it before she has a chance to say anything else to her rescuer.

She's half-way through before she manages to stop herself and, in lieu of napkins, lick her lips. She swallows, trying not to be embarrassed, and too focused now on the asking questions part to care that she missed a dot of soup on her chin. ]

We never heard about a war. At the Academy. No one brought it up, no one said anything. They were training us to fight Insurrectionists. They... [ She pauses, trying not to sink back into those caves and past them into the smoke and confusion of the attempted evacuation. ] Our commanding officers seemed as lost as the rest of us.

Edited 2019-01-22 23:37 (UTC)

[ Ephemera makes himself a bowl as well. Seems like the thing to do. They eat in silence for a while. Silva goes through the bowl fast, as expected. Sometimes people get really hungry after a fight, a real fight. Sometimes they don't feel anything for hours afterward and then it hits them all at once. Better to eat now. Let the emotions settle a bit. ]

War's declared in 2525, or something. I'm fuzzy on the details, but I don't think the UNSC saw it coming.

[ He motions for her bowl. ]

There's more, if you want.

Edited 2019-01-22 23:56 (UTC)

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