Test Drive Meme # 1

[hadrielmods]

Welcome to Hadriel's very first 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 September 24th, and Apps are open October 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!

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: ANYONE GOT A LIGHT?
[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. In this instance, the door has managed to grab something truly horrific, and it's definitely out for blood (and brains) tonight.

Smokers are enemies in the video game series Left 4 Dead, who use their prehensile tongues to capture unwitting people and either drag them away for consumption or hang them up to strangle them. With all of the activity of characters trying to find out what's going on and where they are, there are more than a few of them, lingering in the shadows and waiting to try strike at anyone who may be lagging behind.]


SCENARIO TWO: YOUR HEART WILL GO ON
[You awaken in a windowless room, the walls strangely curved. The door, when you try it, is quite firmly locked. No amount of force is able to break through, so it seems to be sealed by supernatural means. Next to the door stands a slender pedestal, about as big around as a large man's thigh. At the top of the pedestal is a indentation, as if something were meant to go there.

But you're not alone in this room. There are two things with you: a person and a corpse. Pinned to the body is a note: Place a heart on the pedestal to leave. Tucked neatly into the corpse's pocket is a letter opener, small and not particularly sharp.

Did you have weapons or tools on you before? You don't now. But look at it this way: what better form of bonding is there than helping a friend or stranger dig a heart out of a corpse with nothing but a letter opener and your bare hands?]


H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: HAVE YOU HAD YOUR BREAK-IN TODAY?
[You're standing outside a storefront, colored glass set into intricate designs. It's beautiful, artistic, but more importantly - there's definitely food inside. Good food, too, by the glimpses you can see through the window. In fact - wait a minute - isn't that your favorite dish in there, just waiting for you? You've been searching for food for hours, it seems, and the city is bare. Your tummy is getting awful rumbly. What luck!

You try the door. Cruelly, it is locked. The food taunts you, just out of reach.

The glass is lovely, intricate, but it's just glass. Or maybe you know how to pick locks. Or maybe there's a back way in. Or maybe some passing friend will be able to help you. There's a lot of options here, if what you really want is a mouthful of the finest... whatever it is you like.]

Comments

captain hook — once, crau from checkingin

[villainously]

SCENARIO ONE: ANYONE GOT A LIGHT?

( now is not the time to mess with Captain Hook.

he's found himself in a new place, and most alarmingly, he's found himself there alone. he doesn't know how that came to happen, and he surely doesn't bloody know what he's meant to do against monsters when he showed up unarmed. he tried to linger where he arrived as long as he possibly could, hoping desperately that someone might follow — someone from the hotel, and most specifically Emma — but they never do and the wretched creature that appeared with him? didn't seem friendly.

now, well, now he's not sure where he's going. he's looking for something, answers, a friendly face, anything would be better than dark streets and uncertainty. the problem with walking about alone, well, that comes quickly and without mercy — a wretched curl of wet muscle ensnaring his throat and drawing him back. he's been choked before and survived it before, but whatever has him is quite gifted in its attempts. he coughs at the smell of stale putrid smoke as he tries to claw the tongue free. for once in his life he'd like his bloody hook back, but he doesn't have it and with one hand only barely working, he's fighting a losing battle. )

SCENARIO TWO: YOUR HEART WILL GO ON

( he'd never thought he'd miss that blasted hotel.

it hasn't taken him much to almost yearn for those blank hallways and impossibly lacking breakfasts. he misses the people and he sure as shit misses not having to attempt surgery on strange corpses, though near the end of his stay someone had gone mad enough to slice a little girl at the breakfast table, so really is it that much better? possibly, because it's not him that has to do the slicing.

he sighs, but his company isn't volunteering, and he doesn't want to figure out what happens if they delay too long. )

I'll bloody do it. ( bloody is perhaps not a good adjective here, pirate... he moves forward to pick up the blade, determined, and not as afraid as he ought have been. would he have struggled more if this corpse was breathing? he wants to get back to Emma, but falling back on dark paths won't help him, he should know that by now.

cutting at a dead body, though, did that really count? )

SCENARIO THREE: HAVE YOU HAD YOUR BREAK-IN TODAY?

( being starved? sadly, not that new for him. he barely ate in Neverland and that had never bothered him, thanks to the ageless quality of the land. and well, orphans weren't known for their balanced diets, and frankly neither were pirates. the wretched hotel he'd been trapped in really hadn't made his diets that much worse, excluding the time the breakfast stopped coming.

his body still hasn't quite recovered from that, and he doesn't want to go back to starving if he doesn't have to. so it means there is little question when it comes to the fully stocked store of nice, appealing treats. he'll be having supper tonight, and he'll bring enough that he can share with someone else if he has to. if it's wrong then he doesn't care. people slowly starving doesn't really feel right, now does it?

he doesn't even bother looking to see if someone cares as he starts to pick the lock. if they do, well, they'll have to do a bit more than ask him nicely if they want him to stop. )

Aw yeah break-ins

[casperdisaster]

[Noah doesn't particularly care about lock-picking. Well, that's not quite right.

He thinks it's super neat.

It's less destructive than breaking a window open and requires at least some measure of skill, so when the pale blonde private-school boy notices Hook at work he slows his walk until he stops, then makes his way over to watch without so much as a 'hello'. He knows he has a way of being overly-quiet and doesn't want to say something and startle Hook during his work, after all.]

[villainously]

( well, the thing about picking a lock, you've really got to have some sort of mind to your surroundings. you know, just in case a guard decides to lope on by. so, Hook does notice, and he doesn't exactly stop, but he does give a slightly frustrated glance toward his company. )

Can I help you?

( because, as you see, he's a little busy here. he's never had somebody spectate him try and jim a lock before. well, that's not true, but it's been a bloody long time, and that had been in attempts to teach someone. it's a bit odd to be watched at something pointedly illegal. )

[casperdisaster]

No?

[Noah says it like the question that prompted the answer is odd. He is pretty content to sit here and watch.

Oh maybe that's why Hook is asking.]

I've never seen someone pick a lock in real life before, just in movies.

[villainously]

I'm guessing that's not because it doesn't happen.

( and no, he's not going to stop his work as he talks, because why would he. he's very committed to breaking into this place at this point, and his current company isn't intending to stop him, so why would he bother? modern locks are always a bit more work than the ones he's used to, but he's not a pirate for nothing. he'll get through it. at least they aren't like the locks at the hotel, that couldn't be picked. and trust that he tried. )

More that people attempt a bit more subtlety. ( he tries the handle with an elbow, no go. ) Got a light, it'd help.

[casperdisaster]

A light? Oh, yeah!

[There's his phone that has a flashlight app, but that drains the battery pretty quick. On the other hand he's got a tiny LED flashlight in his back pocket. Not good for being the sole source of light but for a little focused work it's aces. Noah pulls the flashlight out, turns it on, and holds it up helpfully. He's glad to be a help.

The flashlight has been striped with a rainbow of glitter clue on everywhere but the handle and the actual light part. ]

Better?

[villainously]

( he looks like a modern enough fellow, he had a few changes of clothes at the hotel, some more dated than others, it was just in general he tried not to point out the whole pirate thing. villainous, evil pirate thing. tended to not go over so well with most. still, there's a hint that he's not quite as he seems as he looks befuddled by the little object that's procured until it turns out to be an odd, tiny, very colorful, electric torch.

well, wasn't that something. still, it'll certainly do the job. )

Cheers. ( now that he can see the inner works of the lock, it's easier to work up the small pistons, one at a time, like a key would have. ) I'd say it's rare to find someone so keen to aide and abet but circumstances do seem odd, don't they? ( all things considered, can anyone really judge them breaking in for food? )

[casperdisaster]

[It's a true enough statement. These are rather extreme circumstances and certain moral allowances need to be made, even the most noble could admit that, and it doesn't look like anyone is in the shop or the rest of the city that is going to come back any time soon. The food would probably just spoil and then they'd have a mess to clean up when they got back.

All of these things are true.

But Noah would probably cheerfully help even if they weren't, as indicated by his shrug and easy statement of,]

It isn't my store.

[villainously]

( look, there's no high horse to be had here, Hook is the one doing the B&E, but the answer still makes him snort a half-hearted laugh. he's not really in the mood for being amused, it just snuck up on him. )

Not sure that makes it better, exactly, but who am I to talk?

( he's a little bit liquid when it comes to this sort of thing. he tries not to steal from people that don't deserve it, but when it comes down to it? he needs to eat, and there's nobody here. he isn't going to wring his hands over this one.

it takes a bit more fiddling, but the next time he tries the handle, it opens. )

[casperdisaster]

[Noah grins a bit at the laugh, as half-hearted as it is. A chance to laugh at all is equally rare in circumstances like these, so Noah will count every successful effort to cause them as a victory.

He'd have probably protested if someone was going to actually be hurt by Hook's actions, but as-is it's a relatively victimless crime as far as they know. No reason to get upset. Besides, if it had been Noah's store, he'd have had a key and he would have shared.

When Hook manages to pop the door open, Noah lets out a very impressed 'Oohh!' and shifts his flashlight in his grip so that he can give him a very soft applause.]

That was really cool!

[villainously]

( not all his crimes have been victimless. once upon a time, he'd pretended the means didn't much matter as long as he got the end he sought. he was aiming to destroy the dark one, he knew the steps along the way that got him a little closer to the same darkness, he just didn't care.

now, he does. there's no getting back that lost time, no completely changing the mistakes and errs of his past. he tries to live better, for himself, for the people that matter to him, but when push comes to shove, a little illegality doesn't bother him terribly.

people here need to eat. Hook included. with monsters around the streets and rooftops, now is not the time to fret over break-ins.

he has enough weary dramatics in him for a half assed bow at his applause. ) Been awhile since that actually worked. ( that's half to himself; locks were tricky in the hotel he was last. he straightens and tucks his tools back in a pocket. ) Suppose that means you get part of the spoils, if you aided in the crime.

[casperdisaster]

You did most of the work.

[Noah is trying to be polite and all, but passing off the need for food doesn't really work when your stomach chooses that moment to growl as loudly as possible.

Once upon a time he didn't have to eat, having a body does come with it's drawbacks.]

... But if you're sure ...

[He puts his flashlight away and tries to not look too embarrassed.]

congrats hook its teenager time

[amnesiatics]

[ it's only luck that has teresa on the street at the time. something about this place is making her a little stir-crazy, reminding her far too much of WICKED and everything they've been put through the last month. it's enough to drive her outside, regardless of the risk, and she hasn't got much of anything in the way of weapons except an old pipe.

teresa hears him almost immediately, she's only around the corner from hook and the creature, and she doesn't even think before rushing up to the sound of choking and coughing and fighting, and the monster might be nothing on the grievers from back home but it's still ugly as sin. she frowns and adjusts her grip on her pipe though, stepping in and swinging hard at the tongue around his neck. ]

Try not to get in the way!

[ that's...mega helpful, teresa. ]

oh god its his worst nightmare

[villainously]

( he's not ashamed to shout for help when it comes to saving his miserable skin. he'd rather not die, which is really a recent development, if you consider how old he actually is. still, the thing that has him ensnared has a wicked grip and it doesn't seem keen to let go, it's tight enough he can't breathe and he can't make much other than pained wheezes as he tries to catch a breath through the merciless vice.

while he's not expecting aide, clawing at his own throat trying to get the — tentacle? arm? by gods, what is this thing? — free, but when one arrives he is far from ashamed to try and take the assistance. it's not exactly easy to follow instruction when he's being hefted off the ground, like the creature fully intends to pull him all the way up the wall — it'd probably break his neck before he got there — he does the best he can to duck his head out of the way so she can swing.

he can't warn her that he's running out of time, but hopefully the grimace he's wearing will do the talking for him. )

2 - hehe hehehe

[64th]

[ you'll have to excuse Cashmere, Hook. she's trying to get a hold on this whole situation while retaining something that looks like sanity. while the hotel turned out to not really be an arena (maybe), she's starting to get the feeling that the Capitol is behind this again.

does she want to cut this body open? no. can she? yes. but if she can get someone else to do it that's all so much better. she'd started to get comfortable in the hotel but everything has to be calculated now. if this new companion think she's a weak little girl than she might as well run with that. get an ally out of it, or at least some she can use to her advantage and dump later.

it doesn't take long at all for the Games mentality to come back. she'll worry about hating that part of her later.

Cashmere's giving the body some distance and instead busies herself trying the door and running her hands along the wall looking for cracks or seams. Hook gets very little of her attention, having already given him a quick glance and deciding that he wasn't enough of a threat to concern herself with. she doesn't realize it's her friend until he speaks, and she thinks her own heart might leap out of her chest.

she's glad to have a friend - if he still knows her - but the joy is short lived and quickly drown in dread. the hotel was very real and now it's very gone, and along with it all the people she'd come to be very fond of (where's raleigh?). ]

I can do it.

[ she abandons her wall exploration to kneel down next to the corpse, and holds out her hand expectantly for the blade. she doesn't say anything to indicate she knows him (what if he doesn't know her?) and instead stares at him for much longer than is necessary or polite.

please recognize her. ]

[villainously]

( he saw his company practically climbing the walls, trying to find an alternative, but he hadn't thought to look too closely. he doesn't expect to recognize anyone here. emma's not here, all the faces he remembers from the hotel are nowhere to be found ... he imagines that's where they are, still. not exactly a promising thought, because he doesn't know where the hotel is or how to get there. he's not going to give up, because he probably doesn't even know the meaning of the word, but it's discouraging to say the least.

considering the fact the person trapped in the room with him is trying to find a secret passage out, it goes without saying that he can assume she's not keen to follow the command of the rather vague bit of paper. perhaps the demand for a heart means one could favor one that isn't out of the dead fellow, but even Captain Hook would hesitate to cleave a heart out of a living person.

apparently he's wrong, as the blonde turns around and even falls into place with grim expectation. that's well and good and everything, but... )

Cashmere?

( he's perplexed and he can't quite decide if this is a good thing, or a bad thing. she doesn't seem to do much in the way of recognition, which probably makes his next question a little faulty. ) Have you seen Emma? ( he's really, and truly, hopeless. sorry, friend.

right. cutting up dead people. sorry, he got distracted. )

They do say ladies first, but I don't believe that applies to autopsies. ( does she really want to do this? because he may be injured, but he'll still give it a go. she doesn't have to do this. he's done worse things in his life. though, come to think, even from what little he knows of her world, Cashmere has likely done worse things herself. )

[64th]

[ she nods when he says her name, and even manages a smile. everything is still shitty, but at least she has a friend. it's good to see him - she'd worried about him after the whole hand incident and then again when he'd disappeared. with the hotel you never knew when gone was gone for good... but eventually you have to give up on seeing people again.]

Hi. No - uh. No Emma. [ just this room. her brow furrows - has he been elsewhere? has he seen the others? is this just another part of the hotel? they have a lot to talk about if when they get out of this weird room. he turns his attention back to the corpse and her gaze falls downward. it doesn't seem fair, exactly, to let him do all the work now that she knows she's with a friend and not a stranger. she's trying not to think about what it will feel like under her hands or how she'll end up coated in blood like in her arena, blood she probably won't be able to wash off. her stomach wrenches with that memory, and she lets out a deep sigh. there's no time to linger on the past right now.

but this person is dead. it's not taking a life. there's no reason to feel guilty. she thinks she can convince herself of that. her jaw stiffens as she steels herself against what's to come. ] We'll take turns. Neither one of us should have to do all of it.

[villainously]

I thought I was alone here. ( she's right, it is good to have a familiar face. someone he knows, even though the situation is far less than ideal. are they better off here, or the hotel that neglects to feed them? honestly, it's pretty hard to say, but sheerly based off the fact Emma isn't out with him, he'd rather be back at the hotel. no matter how confining and stifling it was, he'd be back there in a heartbeat if he knew Emma was still just as trapped...

or, perhaps he'd be strong enough to stay away and find a way to save her. he'd do more good that way, after all. )

I'm not sure how I got in here, but... I can't tell if this is the hotel or not. It doesn't seem anything like it. It reminds me of New York, and we never could see anything out the windows. ( then again, it could just be another trick. it's really hard to say, and they haven't been granted any information, except for the hint that a heart is the only way out of this room.

it seems odd to agree to tag-team such a macabre process, but he sighs and nods. ) If you can get him open, I'll get the heart. ( he's not as strong as he could be with his wrist still injured, but that bit he can manage, and one might argue fishing through organs is the more unsavory of tasks. not that any part of this will be enjoyable. )

[64th]

The hotel's the last thing I remember too. [ she considers the room again, with its strange walls and the door that apparently only opens when delivered a heart. ] The hotel was never this... sleek looking. It's old and dusty. Not like this. [ but she could be wrong. ]

Well. Here it goes. [ might as well get started. she sets to removing the corpse's shirt first, doing it with care instead of just ripping or sawing with the letter opener. maybe the shirt will be useful later, though she's not jumping at the chance to wear corpse clothing. the body's not stiff just yet, as though he'd passed on recently and just happened to do so in an empty room with strangers and instructions to mangle the corpse he left behind. it feels like she should apologize or something, poor guy surely won't get a proper burial and he'll have his insides as outsides. she doesn't apologize, but runs her fingers lightly over his chest, wondering what the best way to go about all this is when the ribcage is in the way.

she settles on jabbing it below his collarbone and running the letter open straight down the center of his chest, pressing hard enough to puncture through skin. it's slow and the cut is ragged, the letter opener no where near sharp enough to do this duty properly. ] Ugh. [ this is truly awful. ]

[villainously]

I've been outside, it's some sort of... city? Hard to say. Mostly empty, but you need to be careful. ( he lifts his chin to indicate the lovely curl of purple he's sporting from that disturbing creature he ran into shortly after arriving. ) There are monsters, and getting free of them alone... not sure I could have. ( he was lucky enough that someone happened by to make sure he got away. he might not be that lucky next time...

though now that he has a familiar face, he won't just abscond once they get passage out of here. did you want a grouchy pirate shadow, Cashmere? well, oops, you've got one. they'll do better together, he thinks, and they've gone through something at least slightly similar before. he trusts her more than he trusts unfamiliar faces. ) We'll need to be careful. ( it's a correction, hinting that he'd rather stick together than run off blind and apart.

Hook works at rolling up his sleeves, trying to make sure when it comes to his part he's not going to be wearing any more of the blood than he has to be. he frowns deeply as the cut starts to show, not quite allowing himself a grimace. this isn't the right tool for the job, and it's not as easy as just cutting through, either. )

We might have to break the ribs to get it out. ( organs were pretty much tucked nicely inside the ribcage, unless he wanted to dig through the guts and reach upwards... christ, why would anyone ask this of them? )

[64th]

We make a good team. [ there's no further discussion needed. if he wants to stick together, then so does she. trusting him with her life in the hotel was mostly figurative but here, if it came to that, she knows she'd be good hands. they've already seen each other at their respective worsts and if that doesn't cement a friendship, nothing will. ]

Wouldn't want it to be too easy, right? [ if she thinks about it too much, this will all turn her stomach enough that she's sick and then she'll be covered in gore and embarrassed, which is one of a few situations that ranks below 'covered in gore' on her mental list of things she'd like to do today.

how to break the ribs, though, is another matter entirely. while the letter opener will cut through flesh - just barely - it's too dull and the edges too smooth to cut bone, or even cartilage. Cashmere closes her eyes, and does her best to push away the nagging part of her that says this is horrible, that she is horrible. all of this? is just necessary. she can't get caught up in the details of feeling sorry for this poor dead sap or for herself (or for Hook who has agreed to what's probably the more horrific of their tasks). forcing herself to be ruthless is easier than it should be for a woman her age, but she's been raised to take human life for sport. why give this a second thought?

she's just got to raggedly cut a little more open so they'll have a better chance of yanking of the heart and anything that might be in it's way. ] I'm thinking I can probably snap 'em if I stomp on them. [ thoughts on that, bestie? ]

[villainously]

( he spares himself a slight breath of relief at her agreement, even though it's not exactly in plain terms. that's all right, he doesn't need them, the confirmation she's given him is more than enough. they didn't have any need to really put their similarities to the test in the hotel, but that seems very likely to change here, and it's good to have someone he trusts to have his back. there's not too many he'd offer that kind of trust to, either. ) Right. We'll do better together.

( he hopes that they can avoid any more of the horrid things that tried to string him up the wall, it still doesn't hurt to be careful. and he's not the most optimistic soul. he doesn't think that threat, or the task set in front of them, will be their last.

it's fairly easy to imagine losing the stomach for what they're doing. the body isn't old enough to reek, but that doesn't make the work any easier. he's trying to operate on the same thought, that they have to do this and they can't feel guilty for what they do to survive. it's not as easy as it used to be. the blood sinks over whitened skin and down to the floor, and he can feel his own gut protest, he just doesn't intend to let it revolt. at her suggestion, he glances around again, as if a better tool could possibly provided in the meantime. ) Might be the only way.

( they could try to lug the body up and let gravity do the work, but that would get blood everywhere... though, frankly? breaking the ribs isn't going to be clean work, no matter how they do it. )

[64th]

[ some of the color drains from her own face as she finally gets flesh pulled away far enough to see rib cage. how disgusting. but they're one step closer to getting out of the room and that's all that matters right now. staying in the room isn't plausible for a number of reasons, and the creeping paranoia in the back of her mind says the longer they stay the more likely that whoever put the body there will find some other way to encourage them in the right direction.

she glances up from her work again, and studies him a long moment. she hadn't meant for it sound like she was indifferent to the idea of sticking close to him. she's still trying to get settled into the idea that the hotel is gone, and that wherever they are now is much more dangerous. the only thing that's really clear is that the rules have changed. ]

It's good to see you. [ she pauses. not to get sappy, but: ] I missed you.

[ and then she stands and sets one fit on the ribs to test her weight against them. ]

[villainously]

( a part of him wonders if this isn't just another test the hotel is throwing their way. impossibly locked rooms is their signature, after all... and the place grows more gruesome with every trial, and this isn't honestly that much different than the little girl slaughtered at the breakfast table, is it? just another step farther, asking they desecrate a corpse to abide by their unsettling demands. a part of him wonders if they wouldn't be better off waiting it out, the hotel always did seem to be a waiting game. tolerate the trial long enough and it'd end, whether you entertained it or not...

but he knows Cashmere well enough, the skittishness in her eyes. he doesn't think she could stand to be in this room too terribly long. and honestly, cutting into a body they didn't kill isn't the worst thing he's ever done. it'd be another story if he was expected to kill someone currently using their heart. a dead body isn't going to get any less dead, now is it.

he's knocked out of his thoughts when she says it's good to see him. well, he's touched and everything, but... ) It's only been a few hours, darling. ( he's puzzled and sounds it, frowning slightly at the genuine look on her face. she certainly means it, he just... can't entirely comprehend why.

he stands too, holding the arm out of the way and putting a foot down on the body to hopefully keep it still. just standing on it might not be enough. ribs are hardy things, it took a bloody car to break his, thanks very much. she'll likely have to stomp and he knows she's strong enough, physically. so is he, if he needs to be. )

[64th]

[ she's puzzled now too, and shakes her head. a few hours? that doesn't make any sense. it's been - well, she doesn't know exactly. after her return to the hotel, the days had blended together. more and more people disappeared and she'd waited for them to come back but they never did. ] Killian, it's been weeks. I looked everywhere for you, but you were gone. You and Emma both. [ and others, but what interest does he have in the others? ]

I don't know what's happening here and I don't know where you've been but it wasn't with me. [ she doesn't sound accusatory, but it's easy to see that his disappearance was upsetting to her. Cashmere thought she wasn't going to have anybody left. no one at the hotel, and no one left behind in Panem either. her entire adult life has been carefully managed to prevent her from losing the few people she hold dear, and in a matter of weeks she managed to lose them all.

Cashmere's sentence is punctuated with a sharp blow of her heel into the corpse. the noise is sickening, but there's no crack of ribs and she huffs in irritation. she'll just have to try again. ]