dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #40

Entry tags:

!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

Please.

[ She's nothing if not polite, handing her bowl over and finally noticing the damp, cooling dot on her chin. She smudges it away with her thumb, studying Ephemera with a mix of reserve and confusion. ]

It's 2526. How-- [ She cuts herself off. War's been over a while, he said. She shakes her head, still trying to fit it all in to a framework that makes sense. ] It's 2526.

[ He fills up her bowl again, then passes it back. Maybe this is the way to do it. Explain one thing at a time. Don't pretend to know more than you does. ]

It's 2557 where I come from.

That doesn't make any sense! [ She's on her feet, almost dumping her soup before she catches herself. She doesn't mean to yell at him, immediately looks horrified, but none of this, none of this fits with anything she's ever been taught or told, anything she's lived through or experienced. ]

Where is Hadriel? In what part of the galaxy?

[ Ephemera just drinks some more soup, watching her. There isn't really a good way to take any of this shit. Hadriel's insane, or it ought to be. It defies all sense of logic. Yet, here they are. ]

It's not part of Sol. Far as anyone can tell, it's in another dimension. People, they get pulled it from all kinds of different places. Sometimes from the same place, but a different time.

[ She sits back down slowly, the anger flowing out of her just as quickly as it came one. She's so tired. That came on fast, too. Chyler stares at the soup for a moment before she goes back to eating.

Another dimension. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, focusing until she can look at him without crying outright. She still looks like she might.

Deep breath. Back to the soup. After a few minutes of silence, while she's staring at the bottom of her freshly emptied bowl: ]

How long do people stay here?

[ Ephemera lets her sit with that for a bit. Keep it simple, he thinks. Stick to what's known. And then let it play out like you would with any other soldier. ]

Depends. Anywhere from a few days to a year. The record's three. But sometimes people get pulled back.

[ He tips his head back, setting his bowl aside. ]

Sometimes people come here after they die back home. I did.

[ She traces a pattern into the soup remnants at the bottom of her bowl, staring into space. After a certain point, a person hears enough impossible things and there's nothing to do but let them wash over her, settle later.

She might be going into a wee little bit of shock. ]

I'll be dead if I go back.

[ She's more than missed the evac window. Her squadmates hopefully left when they couldn't find her. If she goes back now she'll surrounded by no one but the dead. Even if she manages to survive a landscape apparently teeming with alien soldiers, even if she could survive on her own with whatever supplies she found at Corbulo, she would be trapped on a dead planet, alone.

Chyler looks up at Ephemera, her yes the kind of vacant that says she's been through too much too fast to handle. ]

What's it like to die?

Maybe. But you're not dead here.

[ And there's that look in her eyes, that emptiness he's seen before in others. There's only so much the brain can take once the adrenaline wears off. He's probably fucked this up, somehow. Ephemera sighs, rubbing a hand over his good eye. But he doesn't lie, in the end. He always hated it when people lied to him. ]

Everything goes quiet.

[ He'd expected it to hurt, after everything else, but it hadn't. ]

You're crashing hard, kid. Should probably lie down. Couch is that way.

[ A pause. ]

Keep the pistol, if you want.

[ She nods, still obedient to orders even at the end of her wits. She sets the bowl on the little kitchen's counter and makes her way to the couch, shedding her rifle at last next to the couch, in easy reach.

Chyler looks back at him, briefly confused, before she remembers what weapon he's talking about. She nods once, then again. ]

I do. I would like to. Thank you.

Okay.

[ It worries Ephemera how readily she just - obeys. Good little soldier. Doesn't have the energy for anything else. She probably thinks he outranks her. Defaulting to the base training in the face of exhaustion and stress. Follow the example of the rank above you, and the one above them. Ephemera remembers doing that when he was a boot, going dead inside and just mirroring his sergeant, the captain. Whatever they said, he did. He let them do the thinking. But he knew them. Trusted them.

Silva doesn't know anything about him.

Ephemera sighs, and retreats briefly into the bedroom he shares with Drake. A moment later he comes out with two thick blankets. ]

C'mon. Take your boots off.

[ She sits down and wrestles one boot off, then the next, and pauses to inspect it. That creature's tongue managed to rip a slit into the material near the top. She pokes a finger through the hole, thinking about the way those creatures splattered when shot, her mind going to the sight of Colonel Mehaffey exploding as she hit the ground.

Chyler realizes, without urgency, that she's been wriggling her fingers through the hole in her boot and staring into space for a good thirty seconds while Ephemera stood by with the blankets.

She sets the boot down. ]

Sorry.

It's okay. You're in shock.

[ It's always worst after someone's first real combat engagement. No matter how much training a person has, no matter how tough they are, the first time always hits like a ton of bricks. Ephemera sets the blankets down next to her. They're warm, at least. She'll probably crash for a couple hours, at least. Maybe longer. ]

Try and get some sleep.

[ She starts to lie down, then remembers she's still wearing her helmet. The wired part of her, the part of her that's still expecting an attack, says to leave it on. Something could come busting through the door to this warm little space, something could come after them while she's out.

Her helmet hits the floor. She looks at it for a moment, surprised. Chyler presses her hands to her face, rubbing her closed eyes with her fingertips before she finally lies down, dragging one of the blankets up over herself.

She's out before she's properly settled under it. ]

[ This month was a rough one for Door monsters, Drake thinks. They weren't just confused about where they were, it seemed like they were attacking for fun, tormenting the newbies and their protectors alike. It's evening by now and he's got a few good lashes from where their sharp tongues hit him, but he heals fast. Had just kept fighting until they were reasonably certain they were all dead or otherwise fled too far into the tundra for it to be safe giving chase. Which is fine by Drake, they'll just keep an eye out if any are still lurking or some back. He needs to get home to see to his wounds -- the longer he was out there the more people advised him to go to the clinic and that's the last thing anybody needs. Ephemera can patch him up, and in a few days he'll be healed.

Luckily for Chyler, he's not the type to slam the door or anything, but he does call out as he leans down to get his boots off. ]

Babe, do we have any sutures left in the first aid.... kit...?

[ He trails off because he's just spotted that there's someone on the couch. A girl -- young, he thinks, or maybe she just looks moreso in sleep, her boots and helmet laid out on the floor beside her. Is she still wearing armor? Something looks a bit lumpy under the blanket, at least. She stirs and Drake doesn't say anything else, hoping he didn't wake her fully. But there's definitely a ?!?! expression on his face for whichever of them spots him first. ]

[ She stirs, registering an unfamiliar voice in her vicinity, a presence in the room, and for a moment she's back on Cygnus being drilled in preparedness by her parents.

The sidearm Ephemera gave her is out of its holster with the safety off before she's sat up all the way, the weapon trained on Drake before she's opened her eyes entirely. She's still sleep-bleary, her finger not on the trigger--never touch the trigger until you're ready to kill--but now at least she sees and recalls her surroundings.

Everything hurts. She's one big bruise, points along her body throbbing where the armor dug in while she slept.

Still. She keeps the weapon steady. She'll put it down when she's ascertained whether or not the stranger is a threat. ]

Who are you?

[ Oh. Shit.... Drake is more upset by the fact he woke her than the gun pointed at him, honestly. He lifts both hands to show he isn't going to reach for his own sidearm, or the axe that hangs from his other hip. When the blanket falls away her armor isn't quite what he expected but it is familiar, and he's pretty sure that gun is Ephemera's, not just the same model. Okay. She's definitely not a squatter or anything, he brought her home (probably because she's from his world) but forgot to tell her someone else lived here, maybe didn't realize she'd be asleep for so long, something like that. No big deal. He can get out of this without getting shot. ]

My name's Drake, I live here too. Ephemera didn't mention me? If he's home he can clear all this up.

[ His expression softens a little when he realizes how long she must've been asleep. What happened to her to wipe her out so badly? ]

You don't have to sleep in your armor here, you know. It's safe enough in the housing most of the time. I had to talk him out of living in his, too, when we first showed up.

Prefer it if you didn't shoot him, kid.

[ Ephemera steps into the room casually, hands at his sides. He's out of armor and dressed in civilian clothes, jeans and a sweatshirt, both flecked with paint. Should've called Drake to give him a heads up, yeah, but it's too late to regret that now. Gotta deal with the situation in front of them. His voice is calm, and there's no tension in his shoulders. Silva - or should he call her Chyler? - is well trained. Strong trigger discipline. She won't shoot unless she's given a reason to. ]

This is Drake. We live together. I should've mentioned that earlier, and I'm sorry. You still hungry? I was gonna put some coffee on.

[ Chyler lowers her weapon now that she has no reason to keep it at the ready.

She sheds the blanket and stands, reengaging the safety and snugging the gun back into the holster at her thigh. It fits, barely. The holster wasnt made for the model Ephemera gave her, but it serves.

An awkward moment, and then, to Drake: ]

I apologize.

[ She looks Ephemera's way. ] Coffee would be wonderful, thank you.

[ Drake just smiles, looking completely unbothered by the gun in his face... that happens to him a lot. ]

And I'm sorry I woke you. I'd come shake your hand but....

[ He glances at his palms as he lowers them from the 'look I'm harmless' stance; they're pretty bloody. ]

Once he stitches me up, we can worry about manners. What's your name?

[ 'Kid' isn't going to suffice. ]

Aw, shit.

[ Ephemera hurries over for a closer look, frowning at the cuts. They're bleeding more than he'd like, but they look manageable. Still - ]

Coffee might have to wait a few minutes. Let me get the first aid kit. Don't kill each other.

[ The last part is said with a faint smile, something to lighten the mood. Ephemera isn't worried about it. Drake's solid and Ephemera has a good feeling about the kid. She can introduce herself, in the meantime. [

[ Chyler's not sure what it says, that she hadn't even really noticed the blood Drake is covered in. She looks down at herself, realizing she's smeared with dried gore. She probably got it on the couch and the blanket, too.

She'll just have to help clean it up, that's all. There's nothing else she can do.

In answer to Drake: ] Freshman Cadet Chyler Silva.

[ And then she stands there at a loss for several seconds, because somehow, in the past twenty-four hours, she's forgotten how to talk to people. There's been running, screaming, shouted orders, but no conversations. Nothing but the essentials. She's not sure how to switch back from that, to chat with someone when outside this door, outside this city, this place, everything she's ever known has been turned upside down and inside out.

She says the first thing that comes to mind. ]

An axe isn't particularly efficient.

Oh, we're being formal -- Drake Holloway, Seattle PD. You're UNSC?

[ He asks like he's not certain, like he's guessing, which implies he's probably never been one of them. Just knows enough to recognize them. Since Ephemera's gone to fetch the first aid kit he comes closer to disarm himself on the dining room table -- the axe and sidearm are set down, then he's pulling off his shirt for a better view of where the licker's tongue slashed him. Despite how deep they seem, they aren't bleeding all that much. Only bled as much as they did because he was still fighting, still keyed up on adrenaline. Now that his pulse is back down it's all but slowed to a stop. Strange.

Chyler's comment about his choice of weapon has him laughing, the sound soft and amused. ]

You're not the first one to have said that. But this guy over here suggested it when I showed up without any weapons at all, and I got attached. Ammo's hard to come by -- I've learned a few other weapons, too, though.

Edited 2019-01-23 17:46 (UTC)

You say that now, [ Ephemera drawls, returning with the first aid kit. There's no hesitation in the way he and Drake move around each other. It's easy, thoughtless. Ephemera hums to himself, reaching out to bump his forehead against Drake's briefly, before opening the kit. It's a quick, intimate gesture. Something only the two of them do. ] But everything's got its use. Even armor like mine is vulnerable to a strike from close quarters, if you can hit hard enough. Sometimes old weapons work even better than a gun.

[ It was one of his captain's earliest lessons. Never underestimate the past, or its weapons. There's a reason the Covenant still uses swords. Laser swords, sure, but still. ]

Kid's a good shot, [ he adds, starting work on the deepest of the cuts. Drake heals fast, but it doesn't hurt to get things stitched up. Speed up the process, make everything smoother. ] Never ran with anybody outta the academies, but I heard they're rough. Survival of the fittest and all that.

Hubris. [ It's said quietly, with Chyler looking blankly at a spot on the wall. She blinks, coming back to herself, watching the pair of them as Ephemera goes to work. ] I've only been trained with knives. Nothing with the kind of weight that can do real damage to armor.

[ She glances down at her useless rifle. A knife would be worth finding.

After a moment's hesitation, she starts unstrapping her armor. She lifts the breast and back plates over her head and sets them gently next to her boots, revealing the Corbulo Academy t-shirt she was wearing when it all went bad. ]

Yes, I'm UNSC. And they're meant to be rough. They should be. If we're meant to fight, never mind win-- [ Her pale skin goes waxy white as she thinks about the bodies of Marines mixed with the white uniforms of cadets. She clears her throat. ] If we're meant to make any kind of difference, the weakest parts of ourselves need to be ground down and broken off. A warrior is only as good as the officer in command, and Corbulo is for the best of the best.

[ SCHOOL PRIDE. ]

[ Interesting, Drake thinks, Ephemera would show any affection in front of a stranger, even briefly. He lets it happen, unbothered himself, then holds very still for the medical attention. Chyler will notice he's tough -- doesn't watch but doesn't complain either, not even a hiss as the needle pierces his skin over and over again. She'll have to watch close to see his face twitch at the pain, the only giveaway that he's having wounds cleaned and stitched up. ]

It won't damage the armor but if you aim right, a knife can do damage to the person in it. Right in the joints, the neck, like that. But most of the stuff we fight here isn't in gear. I'd rather face a whole bunch of what usually comes through the door than go for more than a spar with someone in power armor. No contest.

[ He isn't certain what to make of her next statement. About how she goes pale thinking about whatever it is they're fighting against... probably the Covenant, right? With that expression? Drake knows the stories, and how Hadriel pulls people from all through time and space. Unless she's from the future instead, and something worse happens. He's not sure how to ask. ]

What do you consider the weakest parts of yourselves, that needs getting rid of? I've never heard anyone describe it like that before -- losing something rather than just gaining new skills.

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