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

[outwards]

[Ohhhhhh dog! Miriam, you have her interest. Even without offering her fire, which is definitely a big plus.]

If you have it, I would like to receive some to set this ablaze.

[She holds up the ticket with a smile that shows way too much teeth to display anything but cheer born out of destructive intent towards something that she suspects wants her ill.]

What means of creating fire do you have?

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam fishes a small red lighter out of her knapsack and holds it out. Though, does the lady know how these work? She's dressed kinda like Damen was, and he doesn't know anything about tech or stuff like that. She flicks the trigger back and there you go, small flame.] Go wild.

[Barnaby noses at the woman's boots, tail wagging.]

[outwards]

[That looks like something that her uncle might have come up with. Which means that she figures that it works logically but she wouldn't have the patience, interest or talent to create one or even fully understand it.]

Will it cease to produce fire if you set it down and release it from your hands?

[She almost expects that no is the answer and is fishing for a piece of rags and torch oil to create a fuse or small projectile.]

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam frowns, trying to work through what the lady is saying. Her words are strangely formal and stiff-sounding. Or would be if someone else was saying them. She manages to make it sound nice.] No? I mean, not this kind. You gotta hold down the trigger, see?

[outwards]

[Safe, but she can see a number of situations where it wouldn't be too practical. Turukáno would like it.]

I shall use a fuse then.

[And with that, she steps a good number of feet away and puts the ticket down. Her hands work quickly and with the ease of long years of experience as she places some of the rag under and around it, letting a couple of inches of it lead away from the ticket. Lastly, she pours just a few drops of oil on the makeshift fuse and puts everything away again before standing up and grinning at the other woman.]

Will you let me try to use this device of yours?

[dogsanddaughters]

Sure! Go ahead. [Miriam holds the lighter out. This lady is interesting.] Just press the trigger down, see, and then you flick the wheel for a spark. Like that!

[outwards]

[She takes the lighter from Miriam's hands and then carefully tries out what she's been told, burning herself the first time that she manages to produce a flame.

She barely manages to not drop it, but after a moment of hissing a curse at it changes her grip on it to try again in a manner that by her reckoning will not burn her again.]

My brother might not be as fond of devices such as this as I thought when first laying eyes on it. [The humour is easily discernible in her words.]

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam tips her head to the side curiously.] Where're you from, lady? I mean, that's the old kind. The newer ones are better, but I don't have any. But you don't have anything like that?

[outwards]

I do indeed not, though I would have had other means were the part of my equipment which contained it not lost with the horse which carried it.

[She will head over there and light the thing on fire in a moment, but for now they're having a conversation that should contain an introduction, so she'll show manners and be patient for a bit.]

I hail from Beleriand, as it were. [She would rather not be more specific with a stranger, for a variety of reasons, and with a strange device like this it is questionable if the woman would recognize her home at all.]

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam's eyes go wide.] You have a horse?

[Clearly this is the most important part of the conversation.]

I really need a surprised/confused icon

[outwards]

[That really surprises her. Horses are just such a part of daily life for her, everyone has them, right? (Okay, this might also her being a filthy rich noble speaking. Shhhhhh.)]

I have owned horses since I was younger still than you are now. [Assuming that the other woman is as old as she looks.]

[dogsanddaughters]

[Miriam just gapes at her. Not the best look, really.] But -- horses! Do you have one here? Can I see it? Are their ears really soft? Barnaby's ears are soft, are they like that?

[outwards]

Have you never before encountered a horse?

[It sounds like it but... how would that happen? She's fairly sure that even the Edain, the Easterlings, the Grey Elves, the Dark Elves and the Dwarves have horses... right? They have to get around on something, after all.

She shakes her head laughing.]

Not as soft as those of hounds, though some hounds with little fur come close to the same feeling. [Assuming that Barnaby is the dog at her side.] If I can find my horse again, I shall introduce you. She is bright and well-trained and knows how to run, so I do not doubt that she is still well.

[dogsanddaughters]

Nobody's got horses anymore. I've seen pictures, though. I heard they're this tall! [Miriam bounces, trying to indicate. Alas, she can't quite reach.] Is she nice? Barnaby's really nice. He's my friend. Say hi, Barnaby.

[The dog offers Aredhel a paw, rather gravely.]

[outwards]

How then do they cover longer distances, or carry greater burdens?

[She grins at the dog and then lowers herself down on one knee, extending a hand to take the paw and shake it.] It is a pleasure meeting you, Barnaby. Has this place been treating you well?