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

[whichend]

[ Arya hates being told what to do, but the plan is solid, and besides, this means she can blame the other man if they're caught. She steps back and draws Needle, a long, thin sword for protection. She doesn't take her eyes off him. Doesn't trust him. She might have to compete for food.

Competition or no, she's still curious. ] Where are you from? [ He doesn't sound like someone from Westeros or Braavos. ]

[unconqueredson]

[The sword catches Saul's attention - a good sword, if the girl can use it, which he doubts, so he leaves his hook and wire clipped at his belt. He wouldn't need the weapon to break the glass anyhow, only a good kick. If he can bring himself to kick that light and beauty in.]

Ilyiga. From Tezzei, in the South. [Answering was a mistake. Now he sees it clearly in his mind's eye.] And you must be from someplace far if you haven't heard of our glasswork. Although the war...

[he can't do it. Instead he begins to move around, looking for another entrance. She might mock him for it; and then he might see if she can use that sword after all.]

[whichend]

[ She doesn't know that city. That's not south as in Dorne - that must be the south of another continent. ]

I'm from Braavos. [ A lie. ] It's on the other side of the world, probably.

[ A frown. ] What war? Must've been bad.

[ He's not going to do it. Fine. She wants in. If he's too craven, well, she'll just have to be the braver one. She puts the hilt of her sword through the glass, shattering the window completely. ]

[unconqueredson]

Probably, [he agrees, not knowing the name one way or another. Does it matter? He hardly knows a thing beyond his own country. He glances around the corner of the building, but sees no door.] The civil war. We've been fighting -

[The sound of crashing glass brings him whirling back, too late to do anything but stare in outrage that transforms, viper-quick, into fury. Mindless of her weapon, he darts at her, grasping for her right wrist to grab and viciously twist her arm. For all his filthy, starved look, he is frighteningly quick, and strong.]

Little bitch! Do you know how much work goes into a thing like that?!

[whichend]

[ She bares her teeth, trying not to cry out in pain. She knees the man in the gut and draws her blade. There's an animalistic fury in her eyes, the kind that normally doesn't show up in a young girl. She'll kill the man, if he hurts her any more. Make no mistake. ]

Let. Me. Go. I'm no one's bitch.

[unconqueredson]

[The kick connects hard, and he staggers back, air huffing out of him, but does not let ho. He does rethink the question of whether she can use the sword, though; he had seen other children wear the look she wears. They all did at one time or another. All except him, who had war in his blood.

With his right hand still about her wrist, he snaps the hook from his belt with his left. She has reach on him, but at this range his weapon is ideal for capturing and disarming, and so he isn't worried. He even disregards the window and the food, for a moment, in his interest in this creature who is very much like the creatures he used to run with.]

How well can you use that little thing, then?

[whichend]

Well enough to kill you. [ She spits at his feet. ]

I've killed Knights, all bigger and stronger than me. I've trained with the Faceless Men. You'd be easy.

[ Not that easy, though. This man clearly knows what he's doing, and he's as desperate and angry as she. Still, it helps to look tough. ]

[unconqueredson]

I don't know what Faceless Men are. But you could kill someone who underestimated you, I think. [It's nearly a compliment. The first lesson that a child soldier learns - he'd used it times enough himself.

He thinks they might understand each other.]

I'm going to let you go, [he decides. If nothing else he can't eat while caught up with her, and there is only so long that he can ignore the omnipresent hunger.] We'll eat. After that you can try to kill me as you please. [He eyes her, ready to release her hand, but still with his hook ready to parry any immediate strike that might follow.]

And if I kill you for that window, that would be fair, too.

[whichend]

They're no one. They're assassins. [ They give the gift of death to those who can pay. They pay too, in a way. They pay with their identities. ]

[ Those terms are fair. And if she doesn't want to fight, she can always escape. She's good at navigating streets, especially when fleeing for her life. She's done it before. She's guessing the other man isn't quite so experienced. ]

Agreed.