dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #7

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!test drive

Test Drive Meme #7

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 March 25th, and apps are open April 1st.

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: HOW UNUSUAL
[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.

Watch out as you explore the streets of Hadriel, because you're not alone, and there's always something on the rooftops watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to separate you from your group and tear you into pieces. This time, the Door has brought in a few Rodents Of Unusual Size, from the film/book Princess Bride.

These large creatures are about the size of a large dog and can be stoked into a frenzy once they smell blood. They typically hide in the shadows and wait for an opportune moment to leap out of the dark and strike at you. Though they can sometimes look like overlarge puppets, take no doubt that these monsters are very much alive, and they love the taste of flesh.]

H O P E
SCENARIO TWO: MIRROR, MIRROR
[While exploring, you might be surprised to come across a pristine mirror in this underground city. It could be lying in your path, it could have been dropped into your bag by a mysterious someone, or it could find you some other way, but it will be there. This is no ordinary mirror, however- upon looking inside of it, the glass will show you a vision of a future that you hope for more than anything.

Regardless of what you want, the mirror shows visions that you believe are possible so that you can adequately hope for it- whether or not they actually are isn't really anyone's concern. Feel free to hide in a corner and stare for hours, throw it away, or try to peek at as many other mirrors as you want- we won't stop you!

This is a mini version of our Hopeful Future event this month!]

R A G E

SCENARIO THREE: PAY 2 WIN
[How cool are carnival booths? Super cool, right? And luckily, the grand prize in this one is something you've always wanted. It could be a briefcase of enough money to make all your troubles go away, that sacred amulet you've been questing after, or something a little less concrete- the approval of someone you want to like you, a curse upon someone you don't like, general freedom... the choices are endless.

And all you have to do to win it is play a game or two.

Something strange seems to be happening, though. Each time you finish a round of the game, the prize requirements just get a little higher, just stretch a little more out of reach. Play again, we're sure you'll get it this time! No? Well, you've definitely got it next time.

Get fed up and smash the booth for the prize? Well buddy, now you're disqualified, and tampering with the booth sets that thing you want most up in flames. Sorry, bud. Better luck next time! And look, there's another booth right behind you...]

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( fear.)

[ This is bullshit. In about a thousand ways to Sunday, but that's not exactly a surprising new facet of Dean's existence. No, it's really just another day in the life, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. He was annoyed the second he set foot in that arena, the second he showed up here out of nowhere and now? Now he's just getting monumentally pissed - kicking the damn rats in the head only seemed to accomplish so much, but he has no qualms about resorting to increasingly violent measures. Blade stuffed inside his jacket? Check. Blade rammed through rats skull? Double Check.

It probably takes him longer than it should to figure out he can up and leave but when he does, he doesn't have it much better walking the streets. Not like he's making any friends either, not after duking it out with the rats hopped up on steroids.

Meandering is the name of the game, considering he has no damn clue where he's going, but apparently the rats do. To the extent that they keep finding exceptionally good hiding spaces compared to their size - even more problematically, they just keep existing. There's more of them, coming out of the woodworks and Dean would really just like to not be here right now. Nor does he want to go waving around his blade in new, dank public places but what else is he supposed to do? Apart from shouting, maybe. There is that option. ]

I swear, if one more of you little shitheads pops outta nowhere, there is going to be so much hell to pay.

( rage.)

[ Carnival booths are really only sort of super cool. Which is to say, not super cool at all. Especially when the prize they're offering is something he ain't gonna get. Being shouted at from a distance, offered the chance to show off his marksman skills, is all just a little ridiculous enough to have Dean standing there, eyeing the booth like a man bereft. Denied of... amusement, really. He doesn't think this is funny, not even a little bit, and he's keeping his distance to a finely tuned degree.

If the prize entailed going back home maybe he'd be throwing himself into it, but as it stands, Dean just manages to look more and more unimpressed. He has nothing to prove, nothing to win, and even less to offer. He'd almost prefer the rats to this level of absurdity. ]

You could not possibly pay me enough.

[ Okay, maybe that's somewhat of a lie. He could be tempted with the right sum of cash, but even then- the ticket he'd earn is not one back home. That's not what's on the table and so he's not playing, preparing himself to turn and walk away, only to glimpse over his shoulder and... see another one. Fantastic. Wonderful. Excuse him if he lets go of an unbearable groan of protest. What has life become. ]

( it's almost funny, if he thinks about it, the things the gods see fit to throw at them every time they make a decision to do so. giant birds, wind chimes made out of bone, wendigos – or, in the case of when he'd first shown up here, gifts beneath a gleaming christmas tree that could either be exactly what one wanted, or the farthest thing from it, depending on which had been opened.

for sam, he doesn't know what could have been in the other box, because the one he'd opened had contained the amulet dean had thrown away years back, his faith gone and his will waning. he still has it, because of course he does, and it stays on his person at all times.

now, he's meandering about himself, peering at the booths and doing his best to ignore the cat-calls of the carnies when he catches sight of something familiar out of the corner of his eye. it's been months, and he's not entirely sure it isn't the product of a weary and restless mind playing a trick on him, but there's something in him that won't let him believe that he could mistake that stance for anything else than what it is –

or that voice, for that matter. and that has sam's throat tightening, going bone-dry, because he can't let himself hope. not after months of nothing and more nothing, of waiting and wishing and hoping that one day he'll wake up and not be alone.

he approaches slowly, still fairly convinced that it's just his imagination, but his brother's name comes out of his mouth before he can think to stop it, voice catching just a little bit on the single syllable. )

… Dean?

[ If there's one thing that Dean has learned to expect from life, it's the unexpected. Granted, he's not always the biggest fan of it - the unexpected tends to kick their ass down all the way to Hell, but at least he knows it's always coming down the line. There's never any hiding from the rug that gets pulled out from their feet, but he's learned to roll with the punches. Make a break for it, ask questions later. Except, as it stands, he hasn't figured out how to get home yet.

But apparently, in the only way that matters, home has still found him.

Dean can pull that voice out of a crowd. A crowd full of a near infinite number of people, because even with the incessant chatter and shout of carnies, he turns on the spot, following the sound of his name. More importantly, the sound of Sam. Brow furrowed heavily, he's already fairly confident in the fact that he's not imagining things (one can only hope) tracking his gaze around booths until his brother's obvious figure makes itself known. ]

Sam!

[ Alright, so maybe he shouts it louder than he means to, but he has an excuse. Damn carnival workers and their damn heckling; Dean is going to make sure he's heard. But more importantly, he's already making his way through the others, narrowly avoiding shoving people out of the way because yeah, he's a dick. But more importantly, Sam is here.

Why is Sam here? Why is he here. Why are there never any easy answers. ]

The hell is going on? [ Coming up on his brother, Dean throws his arms wide in question. Because obviously if someone knows the answer to that question, it should be Sam. ]

( john had always told them, expect the unexpected – something that had been ingrained in the both of them from such an early age that he doesn't think he can remember a time when it wasn't something that he followed without fault, without question. ( back when he didn't think about not following anything their father told them, when everything that came out of his mouth was law, and he's only ever been that kid that follows rules. )

but even with that in mind, neither of them could have expected this, and even with as long as sam has been here – three months and counting – for as long as he's been hoping, he'd never really thought he'd end up finding his brother here.

( equal parts wishful thinking that he would show up, just so he wouldn't be alone, as selfish as that is, and the hope that he wouldn't get dragged into this place, because him not being here would have meant that he was still back home, still fighting the "good" fight and, most importantly, safe from everything this place means. )

but there he is, looking every bit the way he'd left him, and it's such a sight for sore eyes that when he gets close enough, he doesn't keep himself from reaching out to curl fingers into his shirtsleeve, the smallest bit of reassurance that he isn't making it all up, that this visage isn't the product of wanting to see him so badly that his mind had finally said enough and given him something fake to hold on to. the contact doesn't last long, just long enough for him to feel how solid, how real dean is, and then he's letting go, huffing out a small sort of noise that sounds almost incredulous.

like he still can't really believe what he's looking at. )

You got pulled in, too. ( he ducks his head for a small moment, the implication of the words stinging the back of his throat more than they have any real reason to. ) I was hoping you wouldn't, and then hoping you would – and – ( he pauses again, at a loss for words, still so thankful to see his brother that there are no words for the way his chest constricts with the breath that almost wants to choke him. )

Welcome to the underground, I guess.

( good job, sam. good. job. )

[ Dean still isn't sure how to feel about this, not in a way where terror is setting in but near simple confusion. It's not like he hasn't turned up in strange places before without much question, but usually at least there's a small moment of explanation. An instant, a day where he knows it's coming. But this, there was no warning. No anything, and here he is now. He's been here for hours with no reason presented.

There's something particularly ominous about that. No rhyme or reason means that solutions are even more distant and Dean would really like to go back home now. The ride is over, he paid his dues, now send him back. And while it's easy to think that someone is playing some grand cosmic joke, it's not funny. It's never really funny when he's somewhere he's not supposed to be.

But worst of all, Sam is here too.

Only in the fact that he'd rather Sam not be somewhere he shouldn't. And this fits into that category neatly. Even worse than all that, Sam looks vaguely shell shocked, like he's been dragged through the dirt before Dean made his appearance and it's just not all right. Dean glances down at the fingers that dig into his shirt, lifting his attention back up with a curious gaze. Because that is a grab that sings of fear, of disbelief. Sam's shocked, for some reason, that he's here. That he's whole. And Dean can't make heads or tails as to why. ]

I'd ask you if you're okay but i'm thinking I already know the answer.

[ He knows that look all too well, the something has gone wrong look. The breath of fresh air his existence brings with it, though it doesn't really solve the problem before them. No, it just means they're both stuck in it. ]

But here I am. Just in time apparently- you been put through the ringer?

[ It's really all he knows to ask, the silent 'what the hell happened to you' that so often shoots between them during a hunt, after a hunt, on a normal weekday. Dean's arms fold over his chest and he manages to look vaguely stern, expecting Sam to out with it just because he said so. ]

( both of them have their reasons for not being as wound up and shocked by being put in places they shouldn't be – more than he thinks anyone else here have – and it's just the manner of life they live, the things they see from day to day, the things they see behind their eyelids when they try to sleep. there is very little rhyme or reason for anything that happens to them, at least from the very beginning, because when explanations come they tend to come a little too late, or far enough down the line that they don't carry as much weight as they would have from the start.

and as much as he wants to keep his hold on dean's shirt, to keep contact with him on the off-chance that something else happens, he knows better than to cling when there are other things that need to be addressed. so he'll settle for keeping dean in his line of sight, keeping him as close as he can get away with without coming off as the clingy little brother he might have been when they were both younger, and he clears his throat at the response he gets, something of a very humorless laugh making its way free of the back of his tongue, something that sounds just a little tired. worn out. )

Heh. Well, 'okay' is kind of a relative term, isn't it? ( there's a little bit of a smile, for what he can manage, and at least it's genuine. because really, really, he's so happy to see his brother that he's nearly bursting at the seams with it – and sure, maybe it shows in his expression, the softness of it that takes the edge off the worry, the anxiety riddled through him at the thought of what it might mean for dean to be here at all. ) But I'm fine. I'm – I'm good.

( he's better, now that you're here, is what he's saying without saying it at all.

he shoves his hands into his pockets, if only for a lack of anything else to do with them, and gives a small shrug. there are a lot of things he could say about what he's been through since he first showed up here – most importantly, the fact that he'd made a horrible mistake that had ended in his turning into a wendigo and … ultimately being killed off by one of the resident gods here. resurrected and good as new, though, but do you think he's going to come right out and tell dean that?

if you think so, you've got another thing coming. ) No more than usual. ( it's given flippantly, as nonchalantly as he can get away with, though his gaze does stay averted for the smallest split second, enough for dean to know that he's probably lying, and lying badly. )

There are monsters here, Dean. Not exactly like what we're used to, but close enough.

[ It wasn't like Dean was offended by the clingy little brother thing. Sometimes it was like coming back home to his own past, and sometimes it reminded him of where he stood between them, as if he still got to be the big brother on his off days. But really, right now it just meant that something was up. Dean hadn't been here long enough to start frantically worrying over Sam's existence, though he'd had time to wonder why he was alone in this. And now here was Sam, assessing his presence, making sure he was grounded within their little two person family as if Dean might evaporate again at any moment.

And so he simply listens, eyebrows raising with interest as Sam speaks. The smile is at least somewhat genuine and Dean can get behind it, knows the things it implies. The steady comfort, the reminder that two against the world is by far better than one. There's something equally as immeasurable about Sam's presence, a reminder that he wasn't really as alone as he assumed himself to be.

But it's the rest of Sam's words that has Dean uneasy.

They're not exactly the most believable, especially the part about Sam being okay. Because showing up strange places never exactly counts for good things as far as Dean is concerned. Though he's not exactly expecting Sam to whine about it either. It'd be even stranger if he did; they're masters of avoidance, brushing aside everything that's wrong because it's they only option they ever truly have.

Except Sam doesn't get to get away with it. Dean is right here and he's monumentally suspicious. Besides, he'd like to know what he's in for. If anything. ]

Yeah, okay- check monsters off the list. [ He practically rolls his eyes, glancing off for a moment instead to let Sam be in his hesitations. Big deal. Of course there's monsters here. Whey aren't they.

And for a second, Dean almost lets it be. But after another second- nope. Not so much. His attention is back, honed in on Sam, all too expectant and waiting for something far worse. ] But you maybe want to quit with the bullshit. I get that you're fine, we're both fine. Except you're still acting like you got put through a meat grinder while I wasn't looking.

[ Don't even deny it, Sam. He's onto you. ]

( maybe he wasn't offended by it – because he never really had been, all things considered, and there had been times when sam had been a pretty clingy kid, for as often as he'd wanted to be the independent one. ( or as often as he'd tried to convince himself that he was the independent one, that he didn't need his big brother there with him all the time, when it would seem that the very opposite is the truth for them as they are now. it's hard to be away from him, to not know what's going on on his end, and for the past three months, that's been his day-to-day.

no one can blame him for being a ball of nerves, in that respect. and if they do, they're wrong for it. )

but knowing that he's all right, for the most part, after having been taken through a portal that leads to an underground city filled with monsters and gods that constantly seem at odds with one another … granted, with the lives they live, it's pretty par for the course when he really thinks about it – it's comforting, just a little, that he's in one piece. that he can stop worrying for the smallest moment while they feel each other out, while they collect themselves and figure out just where they're supposed to go from here.

if … there is a direction to go from here. sam has been told on numerous occasions that the door that leads in won't lead out, and he hasn't checked for himself yet, taking it on good faith that the ones that have been here longer than him wouldn't lie about something like that – because no one can really want to stay here, can they? with the monsters changing every month, it seems, new arrivals popping it like clockwork just as often, things like tainted meat and carnivals coming and going like it's the most normal thing in the world?

there has to be a method to the madness, but if he's perfectly honest, he would much rather be able to get back to his own madness than keep dealing with a different brand entirely.

he should have known that he wasn't going to get off that easily – because he never does, not when dean has the time to scrutinize what he's saying and the manner in which he says it – and he finds himself chewing idly at the edge of his bottom lip when those words come, because dean is using that voice, the one that means he isn't going to take any manner of bullshit in his next attempt at an explanation, and it's one that he's been hearing, even in the back of his mind for the whole of his life. one that is going to follow him for the rest of it, if dean has his way, he's sure.

because big brothers will be big brothers, and sam at least has the decency in him to look the slightest bit sheepish at being caught red-handed. )

I'm not – ( yes you are. ) … I've just been here for months. Three, to be exact. Wondering if you're okay and if you were ever gonna show up, dealing with giant … birds and wendigos and – ( he sighs, sweeps a hand back through his hair. )

Not exactly put through the grinder, but it hasn't been … easy. ( nothing ever is, is it? )

[ When people talk in front of him about their relationship, he can't help but agree with the fact that they're co-dependent. At least he's not willing to deny it - in his own mind, for starters. No sense lying about that one. Not like he can do jack shit about it, and he's not exactly interested to, either. He tried that long term relationship thing, he did, and he tried and he failed something miserable. Not that Sammy had much to do with that particular loss of a life goal, not really, but if there's one person he can tolerate long term it's Sam. Granted, Cas fits into that slot as well but it's different.

Sam is the one he spends near every waking hour with and when that changes, the world moves a little bit.

Which is maybe why Sam's answer is enough to find himself choking on. Even with the solid surround of noise and electric carnival games going off every which way, Dean is still mind boggled. All the rest sort of falls away - monsters? who cares about monsters? - and Dean hones in on the long expanse of time he somehow missed out on. Especially since he just saw Sam. The fact that he was here in the first place even seemed a little less important, though it was invariably the reason for the mucking up of time and Dean took a cautious step forward, head cocking like a dog who needed to hear the directives a little bit better. ]

You've been here for three months?

[ Dean takes that in for a few more seconds, ignores the bit about giant birds and wendigo's because excuse you, when the hell did time get fucked up along with everything else? ] Three.

[ Okay, so maybe he needs a few more seconds after that even because three months is a long enough time to have to process significantly. The most he could've likely tolerated is a few hours, considering that's how long he's been here wandering aimlessly, but after that it doesn't make the slightest bit of sense. ]

So maybe we should try and figure out how that's even remotely possible when I sure as hell have seen you sooner than that.

( it takes a certain sort of … something to be able to spend nearly every waking moment with the same person. day after day, night after night, with barely more than – maybe – five minutes of alone time to one's self in a twenty-four hour period. with the exception of his stint away at stanford, there have been very few minutes in his days that haven't incorporated dean in some way, and while he'll never openly disagree with the codependency diagnosis, he really doesn't think he would want it any other way.

he'd tried his own apple pie life thing. had had it for a year with amelia and the dog, when he should have been looking for dean in purgatory, and it had been his own choice to leave them in the end. had been his choice again to not go back to her, even though she'd been more than willing to leave her husband in the dust behind them.

when he really thinks about it, there really has only ever been dean, in his past and of course, in his future, and he's all right with that. who else will have his back, especially when he finds himself in situations like these, if not his older brother? ( when have they never not had each other's backs when things like this happen, even if this might tip the scales on the weirder side of things? )

he winces, just a bit at dean's reaction, feels the slightest bit sorry for having broken the news to him like that – even when he thinks about it, there's no other way he could have come out with the truth other than to just come out with it, because there is no beating around the bush with these two, no matter how much he ends up trying to skirt the truth when it's something that he doesn't really want to say.

there's something to be said about the fact that he overlooks the talk of monsters, too. that's just par for the course for them, isn't it? ( yes, of course it is. ) and there isn't much he can do or say in the way of placation, because there isn't anything to say other than what's already been said, and it's all he can do now to lay it all out in the open.

which is to say that he has absolutely no idea how this could have happened, either. ) Three. ( he repeats it back to him, like saying it over and over again will make it more plausible – even though he's sure they both know it won't. it won't come anywhere near causing this to make any sense at all. )

I'd say there might be a trickster involved, but I don't think so. ( he breathes out a sigh, looks off to the side for a tiny moment. ) I … I got nothing, Dean. I have absolutely no idea what's going on, here.

[ Sure, this comes pretty close to the tip of the proverbial weird iceberg. And that unto itself is a problem - not knowing what they're dealing with is always an issue. Even when they don't know, they usually have a clue, some inkling as to why the path has led to this point.

But right now this sort of seems out of his realm of reasoning. There's no reason for either of them to be here, not when they don't even know where here is. Even when Zachariah zapped him places, when he's been shown things out of the norm, there was always a rationale behind it. Something always presented itself in time as some kind of a twisted explanation, but this seems so remote that he can't wrap his mind around it.

Which either makes it infinitely worse or.. again, just really weird. Dean's not entirely sure.

And while they're not back home, Dean can at least comfort himself with the fact that he's here to drag Sam back. Not that he quite grasps the inherent issues with that belief, like he can simply storm around and get them back home, but he'll get there when he gets there. Until then, he can be pleased with the universe for including him in this utter fiasco. He didn't want to be here but sure fine, okay, he's here to help save the damn day. Because isn't that always just the way it goes.

... Okay. Three. He's got it now. Dean heaves a sigh, narrowing his gaze as he looks off at nothing in particular, trying to make sure his head is screwed on right. He doesn't quite know how to approach this, but that doesn't matter at the end of the day. Thinking about it isn't important, dealing with it is. And so he finally turns back to Sam and gets down to business, stops lingering over his thoughts and moves on. ]

Great. Okay.

[ Sam doesn't know jack shit, which admittedly, isn't very helpful. But they've been through worse before and Dean sort of shrugs the whole thing off, clapping a hand around Sam's arm and starting to pull him off in... oh, any ol' direction. ]

Three months means you know your way around, right?

( the tip of the proverbial weird iceberg indeed; for everything that they don't implicitly know what they're dealing with, everything else they do, and having no inkling whatsoever what they're dealing with here is something that neither of them particularly know what to do with. it's an odd situation, but not one that he doesn't think they can overcome now that the both of them are here – because yes, there are things that he realizes he does better with dean around, and hunting is always going to be one of them, regardless of whether or not he acknowledges it consciously – but he still gives pause, because there are so many variables that he doesn't know what to do with any of them, and it's all he can do to cling to the fact that dean is okay. that he's here, he's whole, and that means there is nothing that can stand in their way.

theoretically, at least. and that's something he's going to cling to until he has something better to go on.

and with dean thinking that he has everything to do with getting the both of them back home, there's got to be something that can lead them back to where they belong. something that can get them back to their present lives, whatever challenge they're facing, because it's always them against the world – it it, or isn't it? – and sam wishes that he knew more about what was going on here, even with how long he's been here. he's been exploring to his heart's content, and he's met a few people that have been here longer than he has, and thus able to tell him a few vital things that he's managed to hold onto, but in the long run …

he still has no real idea of what's going on with the whole of everything, even when he knows there are gods involved – and he's died once already, has he mentioned that? not strange at all – but dean seems hell-bent on getting the who-what-when-where-why of everything, and that's always ended in some sort of information gathering for them.

he can only hope that that remains true, no matter what route they take.

three. okay. at least they've gotten that far.

he nods, the slightest bit, even though he looks a bit unsure. ) For the most part, yeah. ( he tries to look sure of himself, picking up his posture and squaring his shoulders even though his hands remain in his jean pockets. )

Got an idea of where you wanna start?

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Test Drive Meme #7

Dean Winchester | Supernatural

well hello there. i choose the second thing.

yes good.

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that fucking face dean lmfao.

he's a judgey mcjudgerson

shakes head that's wrong, deano. that's very wrong.

ur face is wrong sam

now that is the MOST wrong and you take that back right now mister.