dankmemes | 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...]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

When your mind's broken all to hell and your volume control is pretty much shot, there's nothing you can do without putting one hundred percent effort into it. Which is why Krieg is about as subtle as a ballistic projectile, and just as likely to set off a chain reaction of angry sound in the process.

He lumbers on out to glare at whoever just snapped at him, still fuming from the clanging of cognitive dissonance.

Several things about him are readily apparent, but the only thing Krieg's addled brain zeroes in on is his arm's paint job. There's no other company in the universe that specializes in that hideous shade of yellow, is there?

"You've got MUSTARD ON YOUR ARM!"

Oh.

Okay, consider Rhys about eighty percent less annoyed and three hundred percent more terrified at the situation now. He shrinks away from the giant lumbering sack of muscle and insanity and instead tries to consider any method of escape.

He's... sort of... dealt with these types before, now that he's been on Pandora for awhile. He's kind of experienced. This is fine. He's maybe got this.

"...what?" Rhys manages to squeak out, and he winces at the high pitched tone, before clearing his throat and trying again. "Er. What? No- no, I don't. I don't think they, uh, have mustard in this city."

It's alright, everyone: he's got this.

Krieg stalks closer, deliberately encroaching on Rhys's personal space. Good manners aren't his priority, but when are they ever? His visible eye narrows threateningly. He might not have a singular awareness of a lot of things, but he knows he cuts an intimidating figure, so he's just gonna heft that big soul-sticker of his and weigh it in both hands.

"Yyyyyyyeww aren't all meat-packaging," he growls. "Don't you know what they did?"

The rattle of the quiet voice in his head is all but silent now. Doesn't want to play, of course not, not while there's a possibility this one might be - what's the word?

Deserving.

The closer Krieg gets, the further Rhys tries to back away. He's well aware of his own pitiful frame in this situation, and how someone as stacked as Krieg could probably snap Rhys like a toothpick with one hand. It's not an encouraging thought.

"Oh." Some part of what Krieg is saying sort of clicks, and Rhys raises his mechanical arm in demonstration spreading his fingers wide. "My, uh- my arm? Yeah, it's not... meat..."

Not that he wants to think of his body in terms of meat. Does that mean that Krieg wants to eat him?

"I don't know anything, man, I'm just here in this, uh- place, same as you. Please don't kill me."

Lots of people use Hyperion's stuff, mutters the voice, abruptly and apparently deciding that it's still relevant here. We use their stuff. You know that.

Krieg makes a wordless, drawn-out sound that's really best described as a growl as he eyes Rhys with a cold glare. His free hand opens and closes methodically, straining against the itch to try and rip the mechanical arm straight from its socket.

No. That would be rude, insists the irritating whisper in the corner of his brain.

He stabs upward with one finger, gesturing pointlessly at a ceiling that doesn't open to sky. "The yellow H in the moon!"

"Ohh, Hyperion."

That makes more sense. Rhys has to take a second to make sure that he's still upright and not currently bleeding internally just from being in proximity to this guy- but yeah no, he's totally fine for the next five seconds, until mister-Psycho here decides that he needs a little disemboweling.

Rhys actually tilts his head up to follow Krieg's gesture, staring up at the ceiling of the cave for a moment before he tries to compose himself and figure some kind of answer that won't get him immediately murdered. It's harder than it sounds.

"Yeah, they did some, uh- pretty messed up stuff. I don't know what you're talking about, um... specifically, though. I probably didn't do it."

Probably?

Probably doesn't fall in the bounds of the extremes Krieg's mind operates under. He tilts his head to one side, then another, then gives it a rough shake, like clearing cobwebs from his head.

"Better make SURE, jerky-man!" he barks.

That's kind of an overt threat. But the irritating voice-in-his-head is in full support of any anti-Hyperion actions Krieg might take. Unfortunately.

Oh- shit.

Rhys squeaks when Krieg starts yelling and shrinks back, stumbling a little on the rocky dirt. Bandits not liking Hyperion, check. Is this really a surprise to him at this point?

"Sure! Yeah- yeah, no, I'm super sure. The most sure."

He nods emphatically, holding his hands up to prove that he's unarmed. Please don't kill Rhys in a test drive thread, Krieg.

"Like- can't be any more sure than I'm sure right now. I did absolutely nothing. Nothing bad at all. It's fine- we're fine."

Being this physically intimidating makes for an easy lot in life, if you discount the fact that most people who see him are more inclined to shoot on sight than trust that somewhere, buried deep beneath the fractalled folds of his gray matter, there's actually the remnant of a rational human being nestled in there.

"If you're wrong I'll break your matchstick legs over an OPEN FIRE!"

For emphasis, he raises his hand in Rhys's face, curls it into a fist and shakes it furiously.

"Uh... yeah."

Rhys flinches away from Krieg's fist, legs holding him upright, but only barely. This is going to be a fun guy to deal with in the future, he can already tell.

"I'm not wrong. I promise!"

See, threats always get the point across where communication breaks down, which Krieg's case is always. Satisfied, Krieg drops his fist with an odd jerk of his head that he might've meant to be a nod.

"Why aren't you chasing your tail, dog?" He shoulders his axe, glowering. "GO MAKE SOME NEW FRIENDS!"

"Ahhhhaha, okay! Okay!"

Rhys practically shrieks it out, the sound echoing off of the cave walls as he stumbles backward, nearly tripping but catching himself at the last moment.

"I'll go do that now, alright? New friends, lots of fun, no doing anything bad, I promise!"

Krieg bursts into raucous laughter. Wow, tormenting ex-Hyperion stooges is hilarious. He kind of wishes he could get a group of them together so he could run at them and watch them scatter like pigeons.

Just to see what happens, he gives his axe a few swings in Rhys's reaction to see if he trip-falls again on his way out.

Rhys ducks when Krieg stars swinging and staggers backward with a little yelp. Not cool man, seriously not cool.

He's going to turn tail and run now- thanks for the good times, bro.

Test Drive Meme #7

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