dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #8

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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ New York City sure sounds foreign - way different than Lynchwood or Hollow Point. She doesn't comment, chalking it up to the Door's ability to pull an assortment of poor unfortunate souls here.

Fiona remains a bit unfazed at the sight in front of her. She's seen tougher on Pandora - it's just a bullet wound, after all. ]

Mundies? That better not be an insult.

[ She waves the gun a bit, insisting that she has a bit of power. Okay, 'all the power'. Give the girl a gun and she thinks she can stand up to some big bad wolf. Either way, she's not going to offer help - letting him tend to the wound himself. ]

You'll live. They're not hollow points. [ Matter of factly. ] Did you just get here?

Not good at making friends...

[The amazing thing about accelerated healing was that somehow it always managed to bring pain receptors back good as new. That, and the knowledge that a bullet was a bullet and that shit always hurt like fuck.

But he can feel the blood stemming, so he raises one hand and waves dismissively, ignoring the blood running down his wrist.]

It just means 'mundane'. So, human. Not a Fable. [That was an important distinction.]

[It hurts but he tries to straighten up anyway, trying to keep the big bad tough as nails wolf look up. The only tell that it still burns is a wince and his fingers tightening on the wound.

Time for a cigarette.]

At least it wasn't a shotgun... Yeah, I only got here today. Wherever the fuck 'here' is.

[ They weren't built like this on Pandora, that's for sure. She's seen aliens... and plenty of people non-native to her planet. Why should this wolfish guy be any different? She keeps a stray comment or two to herself, especially about the bleeding. He is so aware of it, she's sure. ]

Right. Gonna just save the question about what Fables even are for a later date. Maybe one when you're not plagued to kill me.

[ Her words drip in sarcasm at this point, a little more calmer than she could be. She's ticked off - yeah, every throb of her sides reminds her of why she should keep on guard. Shutting her mouth wasn't easy, it was a defense mechanism in case she needs to talk her way out of something. Rambles weren't as bad as Rhys, but they were up there. ]

Shit, how the hell did I become the welcome committee? [ She reflects to herself, sighing heavily. ] Hadriel. One big clusterfuck, if you ask me. Something about Gods and - look Gren explained that better than I ever will.

[ !!!! ]

[Despite the snark - or perhaps because of it - he's usually a better listener than talker. He's happy to let Fiona prattle on as he wipes his hand clean, or at least dry, and he's almost got the cigarette free of its pack and to his lips when the name drop registers in his head, and he almost drops it when he looks sharply at Fiona.]

Gren? You mean Grendel? [He holds one hand up, about Gren's height give or take the greasy hair.] Red-ish jacket, missing an arm? Drunk maybe a hundred percent of the time?

[ She's an expert at prattling - shit at small talk but... there wasn't really much she could do at this point. She's barely his "senior" in knowledge of this place. It feels dumb giving him advice and even lecturing. ]

Uh? Not sure - [ Okay, so he's trying to pantomime. But, the missing arm does pique her interest. ] I was going to guess ninety-eight, but I could see hundred.

Guy just called himself Gren and reluctantly helped me find food. Sounds like your guy.

[The raised hand drops onto Bigby's face, a pure and simple facepalm, almost poking himself in the eye with the cigarette.]

Oh, great. [Of all the Fables to be stuck here with...] That's just wonderful.

[The smoke ends up between his middle two fingers so he can pinch the bridge of his nose. And by way of explanation, he waves his hand vaguely as he gingerly lifts the other from his wound. A very concerningly large patch of his shirt is dyed blood brown, but that's not anything new.]

We're from the same world. He's another Fable, and... I'm just gonna say he's not exactly fond of me right now.

I'm sensing some messed up history.

[ As if she can completely predict it - the grimace on his face and absolutely unenthusiastic drag of his voice tells it all. She can read people, okay. Came with the job. Fiona is now a reasonable distance so she will slowly... lower her gun only slightly. ]

Ah. Bingo. Well, if this - [ She shifts her body a bit, emphasizing the way her free hand holds at her ribs. It's lucky she wasn't spitting blood or still on the ground crying. ] - is any indication of how you treat people back home, I wouldn't be too find either.

It's not how I want to treat people, but it happens a lot. I'm the Big Bad Wolf, and part of that package is a fucking wonderful reputation for wanton murder.

[He just shrugs, free hand digging for his lighter.] So my job is dealing with people who're scared of me or hate me, and try to resolve their issues by breaking my ribs.

[And sometimes his arms. Occasionally his nose. To be honest it doesn't resolve anyone's issues. Just makes new ones.]

Test Drive Meme #8

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