dankmemes | Test Drive Meme # 1

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!test drive

Test Drive Meme # 1

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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It's the pitch of the voice that draws him more than the words. A kid. Here? Jesus. Shield in hand, he's using it to cave in heads, chests, clutching arms, and to smash bodies up against walls, crushing them with the added weight and strength behind it. He fights through to where the voice came from.]

Hold on. I'm coming.

[Not that he's sure that'll mean much to someone that has no idea who's coming, but he wants her to know she's not alone. It's not just her and monsters. There's help.]

[ Arya may be small, but she's killed men. Real men, with proper brains and everything. These can't be that different: all she has to do is imagine them with Cersei's face, or Ser Ilyn's.

That gives her some courage, and she aims her blows at their faces. The faces, after all, appear to be the most dangerous part.

She whips her head at the man with the - is that a shield? It's no banner Arya recognizes. It gives one of those creatures just enough time to wrap some kind of tentacle around her leg. Arya screams, and plunges her sword into the beast. ]

[Hell. With a harder hit, he bashes the head of the creature standing between him and the girl, sending it flying into the wall. His shield comes down on the... tongue-tentacle thing (he's not looking too closely at that), severing it above where it curled around her leg. A booted foot came out to catch it in the face, sending it toppling back as he moved to slide a hand under one of her arms, aiming to help her up.]

I've got you. Come on, we need to get you somewhere safer.

[If any such place existed around here.]

[ He's promising safety, and gods, does she want it. She's wanted it for years. But the last time a strange man promised her safety, he took her name, her eyes, her everything. And the time before that?

That ended in death.

She lets him help her up, but she's wary. She forces her voice to remain hard, calm, strong. ]

Who are you? And where are you going?

I'm strong, you know. I can be fine on my own.

[That sense of stranger danger was almost a relief to see, even if she was dressed a little... well, she'd fit into one of those rag-tag plays form his day.

He's about to answer, but there's a gurgling moan from the creature whose tongue he'd severed. Seemed it wasn't done. His shield was thrown, cutting through where its jaw was split open as it made another disgusting groan, bouncing off the wall behind it, then coming back for him to catch. Then he answered her.]

Steve Rogers. And as for the where, I'm not quite sure yet, but here doesn't seem to be the best spot.

[It takes everything in him not to ruffle her hair. God, he remembered being like that. Smaller. Significantly weaker. But still willing to spit like a cornered cat and try to lash out with what he had. He noticed the sword -- something like an epee, only not, and he managed to give her a nod instead.]

Maybe you would, but it'd be better if we had someone to watch the other's backs, don't you think?

[ Arya watches the shield, eyes wide. Magic. It must be. The only people she saw pull off feats like that were the priests of the Many-Faced god, but this man definitely isn't a priest. He's not nobody. He's somebody. Steve Rogers.

She supposes she has to give him a name, too. Her last name was Mercy, but that doesn't feel right for this place. Here, she has to be strong. Here, there's no-one to tell her what to do but herself. ]

I'm Nymeria.

[ It's not entirely a lie. She's Nymeria, in her dreams. Close enough.

She nods. Watching each other's back is how you survive. And she can kill him, if he decides that he doesn't really want to watch her back after all. ]

Run? [ She's got an ever-so-small grin on her face. Who knows? This could be fun. ]

[Interesting name, and only one of them, but he nods at her again. Right. Names were a good start. And he'd noticed by the blood smearing the little sword and how she hadn't been slow to use it when she'd been grabbed that she wasn't squeamish with violence -- or unfamiliar with it. In a better place, that would probably bug him, but here and now? Probably for the best.]

Run.

[He'd keep his pace to hers, unless she'd let him carry her, but he'd keep from offering that until it seemed necessary. There was too much of that familiar look in her eye that said she wouldn't appreciate the offer unless it was absolutely needed, and even then...

He gestured off the way he'd come, broken bodies littering the street.]

That way's partially cleared. We can try to find higher ground.

[ She is Nymeria now, named after the woman of a thousand ships. She can run through a stupid street. ]

We'll need someplace to hide. Higher ground would be good, because then you can see everybody, but you must make sure they can't see you.

[ That's how she's managed to survive.

After a few moments, she finally breaks. She has to know about the magic of his shield. ]

Are you a priest? Do you serve a House in the Free Cities? I didn't know they had houses there.

You've got the basics down. I'm taking it this isn't your first rodeo?

[If she even knew that term. Probably not, if her question of whether he was a priest or not was any indication. He gave her a puzzled frown, then shook his head.]

Sorry, but no. I'm just a soldier.

[Well, that was a big fat lie, Steve. Don't lie to children. He huffed out a put upon sigh before gesturing for her to lead the way.]

I'm a little more than a soldier, but I don't know about any Free Cities, sorry.

I'm a fighter. [ She says that forcefully, with no room to argue. She's had to prove that before. She's no lady, she's no princess. She's a warrior. ]

For who's army? Can't be a soldier without an army. Otherwise you're just a blade. [ Everyone knows that.

She begins to climb some steps. Higher ground. That's where they're going. She's slow, though, and by the fifth step, she gives a little wince. ]

[Of course she was. Like an alley cat, something feral and ready to bite. He didn't contest that and tried to hide the smile because of it. The question, however, was easier to answer.]

For the United States of America, though my... group occasionally takes on wider venues.

[Aka, The World.

He sees the wince, debating on how pissed she'll be if he picks her up versus how pissed she'll be if something grabs her and chews her face off. Right.]

Here, let me help you.

[He holds out a hand for her, willing to hoist her up on his shoulder if she accepts it. She's small, lean, and won't weigh much to him at all.]

[ She's never heard of the United States of America. Is it like the Seven Kingdoms? Different lords and ladies fussing about, moaning over who's ruling what? Arya never had patience for any of that. ]

A group? What's your house? Are you house star? That's what you've got on your shield.

[ She stares at the hand, huffs, and accepts. She's not stupid, after all. She knows she can't afford to make the leg worse - she could lose it, and then she'd be no fighter. She saw what happened to Bran.

And then she's tall, taller than she's ever been, and she can't help but grin. She'll never admit she's enjoying this, of course. But her last shoulderback ride was at Winterfell. This is almost like those happier times. ]

I'm not sure I get what you mean by 'house'. The star is... well, it's part of our flag, but there are generally a lot more. It's the colors that really matter.

[Red, white, and blue. Could she smell the freedom? He probably leaked it. But once she'd accepted the help, he stopped moving at her pace and amped it up to his, bounding up the stairs, seemingly unaffected by both her weight and the number of them. Bless weird German science experiments.]

[ Wow, does he just not pay attention? Like, at all? ]

Houses. You know. With the big estate and their own people to rule and their wealth and banner and words and everything. Like Starks. Or Lannisters, or Tullies.

Okay, so if the colors matter, then what do they mean?

[ She's getting her first taste of freedom in a long time. This speed, this height is exhilarating. ]

Ah.

[No, he didn't really get it that much, but it sounded... medieval. Before even his time (which was saying a lot, Arya).]

No, we don't have a system like that where I'm from.

They... well, I guess they mean freedom. Tolerance. Hope. Or that's what they used to, in my day.

[He was hoping to bring it back to the same standards, but he might be fighting a losing battle.

They hit the top floor and he headed for a door that seemed to go for the roof, climbing up stairs until they were back in open air -- if they could even call it that with the sight of rock overhead instead of sky. He looked around, seeing if there was a good place to build or set up a blind to hide behind and look down on the rest of the city from.]

See anything useful?

[ Arya scans the sky, then the rest of the city. ]

This is a good place. Out of the way. No one will look for us here.

There might be some supplies in the building. I can go look.

[ Silent as a shadow. ]

[He might feel a sort of similarity between them, but his protective instincts reared their big, giant head at that offer.]

I think it's best we stick together for now. Until we can do a full sweep of the building. Make sure it's safe. Lock it down. Keep it that way. Sound good?

[Pleas don't see through his blatant attempt to keep her latched to his hip, Arya.]

[ Arya slides off his shoulders and gives him the sternest, most commanding look she can muster. It's very tough, especially for someone her size. ]

Fine. But you're big, so you have to be really careful to move smooth and quiet. Otherwise, the whole thing will be ruined.

[ Got it? ]

I am big, but I'm surprisingly light on my toes. I've done my fair share of sneaking around.

[So he wasn't near the gargantuan height or muscle mass of, say, the Mountain, or even the Hound, but he'd used the element of surprise to his advantage more than once. That look, though. It hurt not smiling. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep it from creeping out and gave her a nod instead.]

Let's set up a blind up here first. Give us a safe spot to look out from behind. You, ah, you know what a blind it?

Of course I know what a blind is. [ And it's not like she'd admit it if she didn't, especially if she's just met a person.

She nods. Okay, you pass. ]

Then let's go. [ She opens the door up and slides back into the building. The layout is strange, all angles and walls that shouldn't be there. It's like the crypts in King's Landing, except above ground. That's a plus.

She slips through the halls, and eventually comes to a door. She jiggles the handle, and it swings open. She smirks, satisfied. ]

Found something.

[Ah, kids. Such a barrel of monkeys...

He let her take point, though he was close enough that if another tongue-tecle creature came out at them, he could get her out of the way. She tried doors, and so did he. As long as they were locked, he could mark them off in his head until he could come back later and break the locks to see what each room held. He looked over when she spoke with that smug tone, grinning slightly.]

Oh? Define 'something'?

Edited (words.. >>) 2015-09-22 03:59 (UTC)

[ She waves him over, excited. ]

I think it's somebody's home. Look! There's furniture and possessions and everything!

[ She creeps in, still careful. She recognizes most of the basic items. There's a bed in an adjacent room, chairs, tables and the like. But there are also things with funny chords that she doesn't recognize. She's never seen an electrical appliance in her life, and couldn't begin to imagine what those were for.

As she moves further in, she notices less...savory things. ]

And bones. Whoever lived here didn't get a proper burial. [ She frowns. She's not scared of the corpse: she's worked with enough of this in the House of Black and White. It's the treatment of the body that bothers her. Why was it left out like that, as carrion-feed? What crime did this person commit to warrant such a thing? ]

[He came in after her, still wary that either the occupant or something less savory might jump out at them. He looked around; a standard apartment that was a little worse for wear. The appliances were more familiar to him, though it had taken him more than a few months to really acquaint himself with all the advances he'd slept through. Still, nothing too out of the ordinary for him or his time, so he didn't pay it much thought beyond marking what was there and what could be used.

He came over at the mention of bones, a hand resting on her shoulder as he looked at the body. Children shouldn't have to see something like that, but he had a feeling the suggestion to wait outside would be met with a less than favorable response. She didn't seem afraid of it. More... curious. He supposed that was to be expected. Kids were curious about everything.]

Considering who's running around out in the streets, I'm not sure that funeral arrangements are a top priority for any survivors -- if there are any.

[A light squeeze, a moment of reassurance (he hoped), then he moved through the apartment, going to the cupboards to check for anything they could scavenge for food.]

[ No one's out a hand on her like that since her father. It's comforting, to be sure, but a strange sadness sweeps through Arya. One that she hasn't experienced in a long time. She'd been too angry, really, to grieve properly. There wasn't time. Not if she was to live.

The bones remind her of her father. Cast aside, dishonored for no good reason. ]

That doesn't matter. Then throw their body in the ground or something, you don't need a funeral, but you can't - you can't leave people like this.

[ Her voice is stiff. Not quite angry, but still upset. The corpse is too far gone for anything to be done about it now. She moves into what used to be the bedroom, looking around. ]

[She sounded offended about the remains, Steve looking at her over his shoulder before she moved off to do some poking around of her own. Poor kid. He had a feeling she'd seen more than she should have.]

I agree with the sentiment, but... sometimes it's not always that easy.

[He felt a pang at the thought of Bucky, wondering how different things would have been if he'd put up more of a fight to get them to go look for his body. If he'd tracked him down--

No. He couldn't think about things like that. Not here and now, anyway. Survival. That was the name of the game.]

Test Drive Meme # 1

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piggyback :D

Is she sure she can carry him? =P

pfft she can carry him AND the magic shield

On the magic shield. They can go sledding. Wee

absolutely. she'll race you, steve. prepare to lose.

oh, it's on like donkey kong

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....if steve learns what her last name is though

goddamn starks. y u always messing in his life?

B)

=)

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