Test Drive Meme #8

[hadrielmods]

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 April 24th, and apps are open May 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: DEAD FLESH BUFFET
[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 lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect chance to swarm around you and chow down. This time, the Door has brought in a group of rotfiends, from the video game The Witcher.

These unpleasant-looking creatures are necrophages, meaning they feed on the flesh of the dead, and if that flesh is in short supply they are happy to add to it. Normally found in groups, they are fast and difficult to corner. What's more, when on the verge of death, they have an annoying tendency to explode into a flammable cloud of poisonous toxins. You left your torch at home, right?]

R A G E
SCENARIO TWO: MMM WHATCHA SAY
[There you were, just walking along the street, minding your own business like a good underground hell-city citizen, when all of a sudden you saw someone. It was like love at first sight - if by 'love' you mean 'deep burning hatred'. You've never wanted to kill someone so much, and why? Well, you're not really sure, but there's probably a reason! You'll just have to figure it out. Or not. Who needs a reason for murder, anyway?

Or maybe you're the one someone else has targeted. Maybe you know they're after you and you're desperately trying to watch your back. Why do they hate you? You don't even know them. Or maybe you do, maybe they're your best friend. Either way, this is a super awkward situation, and someone might end up dead. Hopefully not you!

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


H O P E

SCENARIO THREE: SCRATCH OFF
[This morning, you received a scratch ticket in the mail (who knew Hadriel even had mail?), addressed to you. The instructions are clear enough - scratch off three matching icons, and you win a prize! Sure, okay. But here's the grand prize: a one-way ticket home.

Unfortunately, try as you might, you aren't gonna win that one, but keep hoping! And hey, just think of all the other GREAT PRIZES you could win: an inflatable duck, a plastic ring to give your sweetheart, an empty can of Red Bull, a cell phone charm shaped like a strange green creature with a boner.

So what if you didn't win that ticket home? You got something almost as good: a shitty prize! Thanks, Hope!]

Comments

[skelebro]

[Guess that decides their next course action for them. Sans doesn't waste a moment. Might be he moves kinda fast for such a stocky guy, of the fact that his shortcuts save him a few steps here and there, but whatever the case is, his hand's on Merlwyb's shoulder in the space of seconds.]

Point taken. Time to go.

[So the rotfiends are pouring in from one end, meaning it's not likely they'll be on the building's other side. Hopefully they can't track people by scent. Even if they did, what'd they be following? The scent of ketchup?

...huh.

You know, that's not a bad thought. Sans yanks out another packet of ketchup and crushes it in his fist, then drops the remains on the ground, flicking droplets of the stuff from his fingertips. Maybe that'll put them off his scent for a little bit.

That's the only warning Merlwyb gets before he whisks them both out of the building entirely, moves them about a block down. It happens quick, in barely a blink.

Oof. Taking people with him can really knock the wind out of a skeleton.]

[bloodbrine]

[ To say the Admiral recoils a little from suddenly being teleported from 'inside house' to 'down the block' would be a bit of an understatement. She takes a generous step backwards (narrowly missing bumping into Sans as she does), assessing the new situation in the manner of someone who needs a moment to process what just happened. The mental disconnect from combat focus being jarred so badly isn't the most pleasant sensation.


So.
Well.
O k a y then.



You know what, she's just going to label his ability as 'magickal voodoo' and leave it at that. The arcane is not her field of expertise. At. All. ]

Neatly done. [ FORCIBLY REGAINING HER POISE because Twelve be damned if she is ever seen visibly thrown off-kilter so badly. Not a peep to anyone about this, you hear? >8C
Anyway. Yes. Totally dusting off her coat like it's No Big Deal, clearing her throat, and gesturing towards the main huddle of buildings further off with a wave of one arm. ] This way. The city center offers better protection should we be followed.

[skelebro]

[Yeahhhh he's used to that kind of reaction. Usually it's pretty hilarious, good for a laugh here and there. In this case, it's just something Merlwyb's gonna have to accept in record time because they have time for nothing else.

Sans follows her indicating finger tiredly. His eyesockets are starting to droop shut a bit, and he forces them open again. This is no time to snooze on the job. Heh heh.]

How far?

[Because he's beginning to look a little worn down. Worn to the bone, even. Ha. But seriously, taking this many shortcuts in such a short amount of time is gonna tire a skeleton out.]

[bloodbrine]

A fair distance; half a malm at the very least.

[ You uh... you holding up okay over there, Sans? That 'shimmying through space and time' thing looks like it's really sucked the life out of him.

Merlwyb spares a moment to glance back down the street in what she guesses is the direction they've come from, over to where she can see the distant glow of the city lights, then back down to the much shorter skeleton with a generous dose of concern furrowing her eyebrows.

In all fairness he probably doesn't weigh too much... she could carry him for a ways if he's too worn out to make it the rest of the way. It's not like toting around what's effectively a few sentient bones stuffed in some clothing would tax her strength.
You know. No offense intended.
Rather than make the offer too bluntly, she extends a hand towards him instead. ]

Worry not, I shan't abandon you. Lean on me as you must.

[skelebro]

[Who, him? He's fiiiiiiiine, just feeling a little pooped. He ambles forward at his usual achingly slow pace.]

Thanks, lady. But I think I'll make it.

[Besides, who'd want to chow down on a bony little thing like him, anyway? If nothing else, he makes an effective shield.

That joke doesn't seem as funny as it should.

Also what the heck is a malm.]