Test Drive Meme #40

[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 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.]

Comments

[childofaxios]

[ She's surprised. A little confused as to why the stranger doesn't just... talk, but then her observation wasn't particularly polite. Chyler comes closer, hesitant, not sure what kind of respect she should be paying. ]

You. [ At least she's 90% sure that's what the stranger is asking. ]

Your armor--I've seen someone else with armor like it before. He saved our lives. Me and the... [ She swallows. ] The rest of my squadmates.

[bloodbathing]

[ Ah, that's it. She must know one of his teammates. Not well, he'd guess, but well enough to know that they're the good guys. Well enough to not buy whatever bullshit "reputation" Freelancers get in the future.

Or maybe she just doesn't know about that reputation. Maybe she's from the past compared to others, just as he is.

Something in the way she pauses before saying "squadmates" catches Maine's interest. He peers down at her, studying more than just her uniform. She looks young. Not a kid — anyone old enough to wear a uniform is no kid in Maine's book — but probably a new recruit.

She's hesitant. Still scared.

She shouldn't be. He's not going to hurt her.

Behind his visor, Maine frowns. Tries to figure out how to communicate that he's not a threat and that she doesn't need to be afraid. It's not something he's well versed in doing; usually, he doesn't give a shit what people think of him. But she's from his universe. And, aside from Wash and Carolina, she's the first person from the same universe that Maine's met who hasn't been a colossal fucking asshole.

So, after a moment of consideration, Maine reaches up and thumbs the release on his helmet. Pulls off the gold dome and meets her eyes, bare-faced.

The massive Freelancer is twenty-four years old, but he doesn't look it. A decade of service has aged him in the way that only combat can and left him with an intensity that he doesn't know how to turn off. He's clean-shaven with a shaved head, high cheekbones, and brown eyes. Save for one on the underside of his chin, the bullet scars on his neck are concealed by his bodysuit.

Maine taps his lips with two fingers, then shakes his head: he can't speak. ]

[childofaxios]

[ Some of her anxiety fades as he removes the helmet. She'd started to believe that there might be something more than human behind it, behind Master Chief's as well. God knows she's seen enough over the past two days to make her believe anything is possible.

She nods, understanding, glancing around to try and find something to make it easier for them to communicate and coming up empty. She doesn't even think about the phone she found when she calmed down enough to think. The tech seemed ancient, but it was a resource, so she kept it.

Chyler bites the corner of her lip, looking up at him. ]

Do you know Master Chief?

[ They've got the same kind of armor, they're the same kind of height. That has to increase the likelihood at least a little. ]

He's the one who helped us.

[bloodbathing]

[ Inwardly, Maine is pleased when the young woman — Silva, according to her nametape — appears to relax. Outwardly, it shows only in the way some of the tension in his shoulders fades. He's glad that the gesture helped. Grateful, too, that she's not pressing for answers as to why he can't talk.

It'd be easy enough to show her. All he'd have to do is pull down the collar of his bodysuit. But he doesn't want to expose his throat. Not unless he has to.

Maine watches as she looks around. Waits patiently as she formulates her next words, his earlier frustration having fizzled out upon finding someone from his universe. Someone who's not a dick, that is. At her question, however, Maine shoots Silva a puzzled look. Master Chief is a rank, not a person. Who's she talking about?

Unable to guess who it might be, Maine shakes his head. No, he doesn't know what Master Chief she's talking about. Then, so that she has at least one name, the Freelancer fishes his phone out of a compartment in his armor. The device looks tiny and fragile in his big hands, and — thanks to the thickness of his fingers — he has to take care when hitting each button. But soon enough, he spells out a word and holds the screen out for her to see: ]

Maine.

[ With his free hand, he gestures to himself. Maine. That's his name. ]

[childofaxios]

Maine. [ She smiles. There's something relaxing in this, something nice and simple about it. ] It's nice to meet you. I'm F--

[ She almost lists it all of yet again: Freshman Cadet Chyler Silva, Corbulo Academy of Military Science. But it seems so flashy in light of his own introduction. ] I'm Chyler. I'm... new here.

[ Here, Hadriel. Here, this woodland hallucination. She tries to focus, then looks up at him abruptly again as a question occurs to her. ]

Do you know the Covenant? When are you from?

[bloodbathing]

[ Why she stops herself from saying the first thing that comes to mind, Maine doesn't know. Doesn't ask, either. Names can be personal things; the Freelancer knows that better than most. Instead, she gives him "Chyler," and he nods. Gives her a small smile in return, quick but genuine.

Chyler. Sounds like a first name. No rank attached.

Good. Means she's not afraid of him anymore.

He waits as Chyler gathers her thoughts. Considers how new she might be. Dark eyes flick over her uniform, noting where it appears to have been patched up. It's out of regs; must've happened here. She's had time to clean up, at least. Probably came with the group after him, or maybe she's part of the latest batch.

All those thoughts vanish the moment Chyler asks her next question.

The change in Maine is instantaneous. His shoulders tense; his gaze sharpens; his hands, which had been relaxed, curl into loose fists. Automatic and unconscious responses to the sudden reminder of an enemy. A devastating, seemingly unstoppable enemy that he needs to get back and fight — but he can't.

He blinks. Presses his lips together and nods: yeah, he knows the Covenant. Then he types out the year for her to see: ]

2547

[ Compared to everyone else from his universe (until now), he's a decade or more behind. And for him, the war is still very much ongoing.

Maine tilts his head questioningly and raises his eyebrows, then points to Chyler. Silently asking, "you?"

When is she from? ]

[childofaxios]

[ He knows them. Well, it seems. And moreover, it seems like he's from before the end of the war everyone else has already moved beyond. She shouldn't be relieved, but it's comforting to be faced with someone who... knows, someone who maybe can't see a way past this fight either.

She can't imagine someone like Maine ever being as afraid as her squad during the attack. He's huge, he has the same sort of armor that Master Chief has, and Master Chief went through the enemy like they were straw dolls. But he at least won't tell her 'war's over, everything's okay now'.

Not fair to the others, maybe, but everything is so fresh. It hurts to much. It scares her so much.

Chyler bites her lip. ]

2526.

[bloodbathing]

[ Hearing that the war is over and living its end — actually believing it — are two very different things. Maine's been told that the war ends. He's been told that humanity survives. But he didn't see the victory. He didn't stand with humanity as they released their collective breath and began the long, arduous process of rebuilding.

It's not over, for Maine. It may never be over. And, when Chyler tells him what year she's from, there's a rare flash of empathy across the Freelancer's ordinarily stoic expression.

Maine was all but born into the war. Chyler will live most of her adult life in its shadow. However long that life may be.

(From what Maine's seen, humans don't make it to old age often anymore. The ones who do are the ones that can't fight. Judging by her uniform, Chyler can.)

Belatedly, the Freelancer nods. Indicates the cabin with a little jerk of his chin, silently asking if she'd like to go inside. Might be easier for them to talk if she doesn't have to crane her neck to look him in the eye. ]

[childofaxios]

Oh--yes. [ She probably should have invited him in, but can this place even be called 'hers'? She doesn't know how she got here any more than she knows how she arrived in Hadriel.

She looks from the doorway to him for a moment, briefly wondering if he'll even fit, with that armor, but he's probably a better judge of that than she is. She heads inside, once again not sure if she should let him go first, or what the proper protocol is in this situation. ]

I don't think there's any food here. The water seems to work, but I haven't been able to find any glasses.

[ She turns around in time to watch him come through the door. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ Chyler's look between him and the doorway doesn't surprise Maine. It's far from the first time someone has wondered how he'll fit somewhere. Hell, sometimes he wonders the same thing. When she doesn't ask about it, Maine follows her to the cabin. Lets her step through first before maneuvering inside himself.

And it is a maneuver. The Freelancer has to duck nearly a foot down and then step through semi-sideways. Once through, he keeps his head bowed by habit. Turns to look up at the ceiling, checking its height before he straightens up again.

It might look strange. But his movements are fluid enough that, even if it does appear awkward, it's apparently second nature.

Maine hums in acknowledgment of the food and water situation. Looks to the kitchen, noting that the cabinets are tall enough that they might have high shelves when the doors are opened. Maybe there are a few glasses hidden at the back of a top shelf. Shot glasses, if nothing else. Or maybe she's checked already.

Turning to Chyler, Maine points to the cabinets. Then he types two words: ]

Top shelf?

[ Has she checked it? ]

[childofaxios]

[ She goes slightly pink, propping her hands on her hips and looking away. ]

I couldn't reach them.

[bloodbathing]

[ Well, if there's one thing Maine's height is good for (aside from scaring the shit out of people), it's reaching things on high shelves. He gives her a nod of acknowledgment and makes his way to the cabinets. Opens one up and finds a few mismatched novelty mugs tucked away at the back.

Weird place to put them. Almost like they were hidden for some reason.

Maine shrugs off the oddity and pulls two down. Then he looks at them...

... And he promptly puts one back and snags another. Because no one needs to drink out of a mug shaped like a toilet bowl.

The two "winners" are a mug with a raised middle finger molded on the inside, and another with a fox painted between the words "for" and "sake." He offers Chyler the far less rude fox mug. ]

[childofaxios]

[ Chyler turns it back and forth, lips pursed in disapproval. Yes, she gets the joke, she's not a baby. It's just stupid.

She shakes her head and tries the sink. It sputters for a moment before clear water bursts out of the tap. ]

Well, we have water at least.

[bloodbathing]

[ The Freelancer flashes a thumbs up — "good" — and waits to fill his own mug. It's not ideal, but it's a hell of a lot better than slowly dehydrating in this place. Wherever 'this place' may be.

Try as he might, Maine still can't recall how he showed up in his cabin. He thinks that the last thing he remembers is falling asleep, but even that feels distant and fuzzy.

Curious, he types out: ]

Remember arrival?

[childofaxios]

Here? [ Chyler thinks about it, frowning. ] No. I think...

[ What's the last thing she remembers? She was trying to sleep, trying and failing, and sunlight was just starting to splash through her windows and across the floor. ]

I don't know. I think maybe I fell asleep.

[ She pinches herself with her free hand and frowns. ] But I felt that.

[bloodbathing]

[ Maine nods. Mimics Chyler by pinching ... well, there's not much free to pinch, so he settles for the side of his neck.

Yeah, he definitely feels it. ]

Same. Sleeping, too.

[childofaxios]

[ Her first thought is that she's dreaming. That she made him up, that he's some kind of stand-in for Master Chief in her mind. But unless she pinched herself as she slept, how could she have felt it? ]

So we're... sharing a dream.

[ She buries her face in a drink of water with a muttered, ] This place makes no sense.

[ It feels like the sooner she gets used to that, the better off she might be. ]

[bloodbathing]

[ A deep rumble of assent if Maine's answer to that. He fills his mug in turn and takes a sip, steadfastly ignoring the way his throat still feels wrong when he does so. Maybe it'll never feel normal. Maybe it would be worse if it did.

He thinks about the possibility of a shared dream. Remembers when he first woke up in the Coliseum; remembers dreaming of his teammates, and how he'd learned things that later turned out to be true. ]

Happened before. Shared dream. Don't know how.

[ But: ]

Can meet later. Confirm.

[ When they wake, he means. If they're both actually in Hadriel. ]