dankmemes | Test Drive Meme #9

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!test drive

Test Drive Meme #9

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 May 24th, and apps are open June 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:
I'VE SEEN ENOUGH HENTAI TO KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING
[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 malboro, from the Final Fantasy video game series.

These plant-like monsters are essentially comprised of long, tentacle-esque stalks- sometimes with eyes on the ends- and large, gaping mouths. Their breath can be poisonous and literally make you sick to your stomach, and- just your luck- they're carnivorous. Happy hunting!]

C O M B I N A T I O N

SCENARIO TWO: DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME
[You're so tired- at least you've got a reasonably safe place to rest your head at while you recuperate, right? After all, nothing can go wrong when you're asleep.

Aaand that's where you're mistaken. For this event, all characters who fall asleep will either be Hosts or Visitors in their, or someone else's dreams. All dreams are inflicted by one of the four gods (Hope, Delight, Rage, or Fear), and will have their presence influencing the events within your dreams in order to harvest their desired emotion from you.

The sky is essentially the limit, so long as your dreams correspond with one of the four gods. Happy sleeping!

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

D E L I G H T

SCENARIO THREE: JUST SAY NO
[On your kitchen table the next morning is a blue pill. Just the one pill, along with a glass of what seems to be water. There's a note in elegant script next to the pill that merely says 'TAKE ME'.

If taken, the pill can have a variety of effects. You can hallucinate, you can get uncontrollable giggles, you can feel drunk, you can feel like colors all have textures and shapes and the world is looking at you through a kaleidoscope! The drug can have whatever effect the player desires, as long as it's pleasurable or fun.

So: do you take it? Can you hear someone who already took the drug, stumbling down the street? You, uh, might want to help them, and do be careful. There's no telling what kinds of monsters are still out there.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

one ; enough hentai? Never
[ What. The fuck was this. Ollie has been running around this mess of a city for the last ten minutes, trying to figure out where the hell he is and why is train to Bradford had him end up here. Admittedly, the similarities to Bradford were striking, what with all the decrepit buildings and everything else.

And the--

Whatever this was. He's pretty sure the North got these since he went to university. It's about as horrifying as living outside the M25 is to him now.

It shifts towards him, a great lumpy mass, and his only possible course of action could be; ] Sorry, do you speak English? Where am I?

three ; say yes
[ Look, random pills and politicians are a bad idea.

So, obviously, he's taking it.

The effects kick in almost as soon as he drinks the liquid and suddenly he's flying, floating along clouds with ease and grace.

... In reality? He's kind of just running around the city aimlessly, arms outstretched.

Best. Trip. Ever. ]

wildcard
[ hit him up with something else maybe? ]

[Liquid managed to avoid the tentacle monsters for now, as he focused his attention on the new comer. Was this guy actually asking the creature if it spoke English? The fool. The creature would surely eat him. The blond narrowed his eyes and saw the teeth and quickly grabbed the man away, just before the creature snapped it's jaws around the man's head.]

It might not speak English but I do.

Edited 2016-05-21 19:07 (UTC)

[ Well.. okay, maybe it wasn't quite Bradford. Things that want to kill a political advisor in Bradford usually have weapons. ]

Great. Where am I? [ Because it really cannot be the UK. He's not quite so dumb as to not recognise architecture this strange. He did get into Cambridge, after all. ]

[Great. This guy had no idea. Perfect. Liquid made sure they were well away from the tentacle monster before continuing.]

You're in a giant cave which inside houses a city. That is currently where you are at the moment. [He didn't know the name of the city as such. He just knew it as the cave. ]

Try not to get eaten by that thing over there. [Liquid indicated to the giant tentacle monster currently ambling away from them, seeking other prey doubt.]

Edited 2016-05-21 19:13 (UTC)

WHY IS IT ALWAYS TENTACLES?

What the fuck.

[ gwen stares at the malboro in front of her with fascinated horror. she's seen some weird shit in her life. hell, she is currently weird shit. that kind of goes hand-in-hand with being the best friend of a superhero and living in new york. but this? this is new.

the malboro reaches out for her with its tentacle-like appendages, and gwen shrieks. stumbles backwards. and proceeds to fall flat on her ass. ]

No. Nonononono... [ she mumbles to herself as she scoots away. as the plant continues to reach for her, a red substance crawls across gwen's skin until it covers her face.

she snarls. ]

POST-TENTACLE EXTRAVAGANZA

[ once she's made her way away from the evil plants and into something like the city proper, gwen takes a moment for herself. she sits on the edge of the street and puts her face in her hands. ]

What is my life even... [ she sighs, then crosses her legs one right over the other to get a good look at the soles of her bare feet.

it looks like she was unfortunate enough to be dragged here in what may be her pajamas--cotton shorts and a white tank top. not much protection from the monsters here, but she doesn't seem too roughed up. a bit dirty, perhaps, but not hurt. not even her feet.

running a hand through her hair, she looks around at hadriel. ] God, this blows. [ once she spots someone across the street, she pitches her voice a little louder. ] Hey! Hey you! Know how a girl can get back to Queens?

Edited 2016-05-21 19:22 (UTC)

I. No One Said Anything About Tentacles ( fear )

[ This....

Yeah this isn't the dungeon. This isn't the training ring. This is not where Zoë was trying to get down to. She's dressed to show she wasn't expecting to be going outside today ( not that she gets outside often anyway ). She's dressed ready to go a few rounds with a punching bag. Which maybe what she gets.

Zoë doesn't stop wandering, mostly because there doesn't seem a back to go back to. So she moves. She plods carefully, feet bare against the hard ground. She doesn't flinch if she steps on a rock, though damn if it doesn't hurt. Her feet aren't used to such rough terrain. She's not used to any of this, and she's not really sure she's not having some kind of really intense dream.

Because: ] What the fuck is that?!

[ Zoë stops abruptly, finding herself face to face with a rather large creature with rather large tentacles that seems fixated on her the second she speaks. She takes a careful step back. ]

Oh hell fucking no. I'm not going anywhere near that.

II. One Pill, Two Pill ( delight )

[ As time goes on, it becomes clear that this isn't Hapsburg. This isn't even her world. And in fact she may not be returning for a very long time.

She's actually pretty okay with this get up.

So when she finds a pill on the kitchen table, she raises an eyebrow but she's not as surprised as she should be. At least she has the option of tossing the pill here. But it's not her first time with drugs, and caution hasn't been coded into her being. She takes the pill and pops it between her lips-

And how she's wound up with her bare feet in the water at the edge of the lake, slowly edging deeper, is really beyond her. ]

Now that's much better... [ She murmurs more to herself than anyone else. ]

III.Wildcard (anywhere )

( anything else you can imagine! pm or pp midnightlullabii with any questions! )

Edited 2016-05-21 21:34 (UTC)

fear, part one.
[ This is not Houston.

Of course, it's entirely possible that Houston, as Michelle once knew it, doesn't exist anymore. She's had to piece together the situation on her own, and her knowledge still has some pretty significant gaps. It's difficult, especially, to distinguish between the truths that Howard had told her, and the lies. Facts: there has been an attack. The attackers are definitely not human, but Michelle is still cautious enough not to use the word alien. Another fact: the world as Michelle knows it will never be the same.

But even so, Houston shouldn't be this dark. There should be stars, there should be people, and Michelle is fairly certain there should be a lot less stone. But despite her doubts, Michelle keeps exploring the streets of Hadriel, wearing a shower curtain as a biohazard suit and limping, just a little. She carries a small cigarette lighter. It's not much of a defense, but it's something.

It'll have to do, because when Michelle turns the corner, she finds herself face-to-face with a malboro. She flicks the lighter on holding it in front of her. If she can just set one of those tentacles on fire... ]

fear, part two.
[ You stand in an underground bunker. It's not obvious that you're in a bunker at first -- the room looks like a quaint little living room, complete with a jukebox, fish tank, and several dated board games. But there's no windows in this place, and underneath everything is the hum of a generator. Sometimes, the lights will flicker, and the entire place becomes very, very eerie.

You hear a loud, metallic crash, followed by a man's garbled scream. There's a softer hiss of something burning, disintegrating. A woman bursts into the room, running for her life. Following her is a much larger man, half of his bearded face burned and bloody, like it's been doused in acid. Which is exactly what happened. He lunges towards her predatorily, yelling: ]

Michelle! Get back here! You don't know what the fuck you're doing!

[ Do you stay and fight, or do you flee with Michelle? Either way, there's nowhere to go but out, and this man-turned-monster is hot on your heels. ]

ONE

[Newt is used to living in a place where there's a constant threat of getting disemboweled by monsters. Or eaten. Or otherwise mentally traumatized. Heck, he's even dealt with killer plants before. None of this should be new. Other than, well, the venue and the surprising constant supply of food and shelter; as such, he might suppose it's a step up from Haven. Though, really, that's not saying much, considering Haven was about rock bottom. Hadriel, in so far, has been an...interesting experience. Not exactly because of the place in and of itself, but mainly for the adjustments Newt has been making. Suddenly waking up to find himself in a gladiator ring with a giant monster hadn't been the most terrifying thing to ever happen to Newt, but it certainly ranked up there. Fortunately he had immediately done what he did best and ran the fuck away. To his great relief, the monster hadn't pursued, and Newt had managed to reach something like safety. So now here he was a week later, venturing outside for the first time since arrival. He's still reeling about the change of scenery, but in an attempt to get his mind off of, well...things...he's finally decided to venture out of the apartment he's been holed up in.

He lifts a hand to scratch at the scar on his face, gruesome and stretching from ear to ear, meeting at the corners of his mouth, with a casual idleness. He's a bit wary of walking around; old habits, after all, die hard, and so he's can't help but nervously tuck his hand into the pocket of his jeans to curl around his switchblade. Not that he's terribly effective with it, but he can sometimes be effective enough at this point that it could be useful.

Sort of. If he doesn't cut himself with it.

Unfortunately, despite the amount of time he spent in a hellhole worse than this and the hyper vigilance he's retained from it, at the end of the day Newt Geiszler is still only human. He doesn't have advanced hearing or smell or spidey sense or whatever. So he's completely unprepared as a vine lashes out from the shadows, curling around his ankle and yanking his feet out from under him. He goes down with a yelp, hitting the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of himself. Thus it takes a moment for him to realize he's being dragged into an alleyway.

At which point, he immediately starts freaking out]

Help--help, someone help me--!

[yeah, that's definitely some frantic screaming that's happening right about now as Newt's fingers scrabble at the ground, trying to find something, anything to grab a hold of]

TWO - Host/Hope

[Hello, welcome to a dream. Newt will be your humble host this evening, whether he likes it or not. And because we don't want all of this entire TDM post to be absolutely doom and gloom, this actually seems like a nice dream? By all appearances, anyway.

There's a small kitchen in a small apartment. The TV in the apartment is completely stripped of parts, but for some reason the kitchen seems to be functioning fine. Newt himself is sitting at the kitchen table, tinkering with something or other. It looks like a circuit board of some kind attached to some wires. He should be farther along on it on all things considered, however, as it is, his attention is diverted.

Newt is not alone in this apartment. No, there's another man in the apartment, his back turned toward the table and towards the rest of the room as he stands at the oven, cooking something on the burner. It smells like pasta, maybe, canned tomato sauce and all. And Newt? Well, he simply sits at the table, swinging his legs, elbow on the table and his cheek resting on his fist, watching the other man's back with a soft smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. It even makes his scar less gruesome somehow with the way it tugs at the corners of his mouth. Either way, he definitely hasn't noticed your presence yet.]

THREE

[There was no way in HELL or anywhere else that Newt was going to ingest that pill. Not yet, anyway. He had enough strange substances forced on him in Haven; he wasn't about to take one willingly. No, instead, he's pulled out his strange slap-dash microscope, which is essentially a very high-tech projecting tablet from Tony Stark combined with a specially crafted lens (thanks, people with superpowers!!) So you'll find him in whatever parts-strewn workshop he's managed to create, probably in an empty apartment, making an attempt to extract whatever is in this pill so he can put it under a microscope and study it.]

WILDCARD???

[I'm p flexible and open, so HMU??]

Final OOC Note: So Newt is coming from a horror game and carries with him some obvious visible scars from it. If you'd like to see what exactly those scars are, you can do so over here! You can also find me at

nikkernoodle or by journal pm if you need.

Edited 2016-05-21 20:41 (UTC)

[as it is, just the raised voice is enough to make Newt startle pretty badly, jumping about half a foot in the air. He jerks around towards Gwen, hand going to his pocket instinctively, eyes wide--however, once he realizes that it's just a person and (seemingly) not a monster about to attack him, he relaxes. A little bit.]

Uh--what? [this, shouted back, because he was too busy having a knee jerk reaction to register the question]

Tentacle Time

Near is used to being dumped into random places by this point, but those don't usually involve immediate danger. His reflexes allow him to jerk just outside the range of the tentacle taking a swipe at him, at least. He glances up at the creature, but no particular surprise or fright crosses his face at the monstrous appearance.

But behind his blank expression, his mind is furiously calculating. So many variables that should be present, have become so familiar to him over the past year and a half, are simply not there and that's more alarming than the monster. But there's no time to consider them. Not now.

He scoots back again as another tentacle lashes out, eyes scanning for an avenue of escape. Getting out of here is what he needs. He can't fight, and he can't keep on dodging for long; he will wear out. A little assistance would not be remiss.

And Now That That's Over . . .

He is not where he should be; that much could not be any more obvious. But the stress of his arrival and what he'd had to do in order to escape the situation has worn Near down considerably.

He doesn't rest out in the open; that would be far too risky. Instead, he finds his way into one of the little shops and crouches up against a wall, one knee tucked to his chest. He's small, disheveled -- clad in plain white pajamas, even, like he'd been dumped out of bed to get here --- and very clearly not in a good physical state at the moment. His eyes are focused on the floor and he reaches a hand up to curl his index finger into his hair.

Near may not look like he's paying attention to anything except the floor, but he is. Always observe. That is one thing about his life that never changes.

Dream a Little Dream of Me: Delight

The day is a typical one, as Near has come to know. Another day of the cold learning set within warm, homey walls and wood-paneled floors. Class is ending now, and each of the children, seated at neatly-ordered desks, are handed the results of their latest evaluation. There are scattered murmurs of either satisfaction or disappointment, but Near himself sits silently, noting his perfect score as something of a foregone conclusion.

It's nice, and he's indeed satisfied with the result, don't get him wrong. But it's also expected.

And then the other children crowd around his desk, peeking over his shoulder and the shoulders of others, clamoring to see his score. There's excited chattering in place of the murmurs now.

"Wow, you did it again, huh?"

"You're so good at this, Near. We're never gonna catch up, are we?" Followed by a self-deprecating laugh.

The praise brings him no satisfaction. In fact, he mostly ignores it, calmly pushing himself out of his chair to escape the crowd. "Please excuse me."

He's off without another word, carrying his test paper with him. But on his way out of the classroom, he stops close to the desk of one of the few students who hadn't crowded him, a slightly older blond boy, and peers down at the paper clutched tightly in the boy's fists.

"Only two points off. Congratulations, Mello."

Mello's head snaps up at that, his eyes narrow. "I don't need congratulations from you. Don't come over here to throw your score in my face, Near."

"You're misunderstanding my intent."

"The hell I am." Mello shoves himself out of his chair, stares Near dead in the eyes. "You've gotten comfortable with this, haven't you? Think you're just going to keep beating me all the time? You aren't as great as you and everyone else thinks you are. They might suck up to you, but I'm not going to."

Near doesn't say anything, doesn't flinch at the harsh stare, just tilts his head marginally, listening.

Mello appears to take this as an insult; his expression darkens further, the paper in his hand crumpling as his fist tightens. "Next test, I'm kicking your ass. And then I'll keep doing it. I'll show you who's really better, who's really going to get chosen in the end." The scowl fades into a crooked smirk. "Maybe I'll congratulate you on second place then and see how you like it."

It's meant to be an insult. Near knows that. To anyone else, that's exactly what it would be, sending up a wave of defensiveness or irritation or anger, and the urge to lash back verbally or physically. But Near? He smiles. It isn't a normal smile; it's off-kilter and strange, like he doesn't know how to do it properly.

"Oh?" His voice had been toneless before, but now it contains a hint of something lighter. Amusement, perhaps. Maybe even happiness. "Well, I wish you luck, then. You've got a task ahead of you. I look forward to the contest."

Mello's smirk fades back into that scowl and his jaw twitches, just once. "Don't mock me, you little freak."

With that, Mello stalks off. Near doesn't mean to follow him exactly; he's just on his way out of class himself. And that odd smile has yet to fade from his features. A moment later, there's a disgusted glance back from Mello and a light shove to the side. Near, being smaller and frailer, stumbles back and finds himself in the toy room. This is fine.

The smile fades, but there is still the mildest spark of something in his eyes. He crouches on the floor, sets his test paper aside, and pulls a pair of toy robots out of a box on the other side. He seems completely engrossed in them, not even realizing that anyone else might be there.

Until he reaches his hand up, but with his eyes still on the toys, points to a large box of Lego on the other side of the room. "Could you get that for me, please?"

Well! This is certainly not London, and this betentacled thing approaching certainly isn't something Eliza has ever seen before, though it does look like the sort of thing the Royal Society would be tasked with investigating. Or perhaps exterminating would be a more appropriate method of inquiry - it's clear even to Eliza that this is something dangerous, something that is in the process of attacking a boy who doesn't seem to be able to defend himself.

She doesn't give the matter much more thought, just picks up her skirts and hurries forward, coming at the monster from the side. She's not in the habit of showing off her particular and unique set of skills in front of civilians, but saving the boy is far more important at the moment. Once she's close enough and angled in the proper direction to avoid hitting the boy in the process, she murmurs a familiar Latin chant and raises up her hands, calling forth a heavy burst of energy toward the creature.

Mello remembers this exchange, or something very similar to it, at least. That's how it always went at the House - Near effortlessly besting him by a fractional margin, no matter how hard Mello studied, how much effort he put toward being number one. It's painful to remember, of course - he should be angry, he thinks, but this is a dream, so those feelings are tempered by soft edges, and he isn't angry, but rather floats along without resistance in the dream's path, observing with a kind of eerie detachment at what he sees unfolding.

He thinks he must be invisible - a ghost, maybe, though Mello isn't entirely sure he believes in ghosts, and he isn't dead yet anyway. But the specifics of the scenario don't matter much - that's typical dream logic. All he knows is Near suddenly acknowledges his presence, in a very Near way, by asking Mello to fetch something for him.

"Why can't you get it yourself?" he asks, head tilted slightly to one side, less confrontational than curious.

[Is there anything that can be grabbed and smashed into this man's ...well, face is good, but any part of his body works. Kicking his legs out form under him would be something that Aredhel would aim for, too.

There could be a solid reasoning behind this action, but mostly it is reflexes and spur-of-the-moment that she grabs a chair and smashes it right into the man's kneecaps, using the starting position that bending down to do so to take right after the woman as soon as she sees him going down for at least the moment.]

Does he have weapons on his person?

One thing that hasn't changed from reality to the dream is Near's lack of making eye contact. If he'd looked up, he might have noticed some resemblance to this man and the boy who had effectively just proclaimed himself his rival. But he doesn't look up. No, his attention is still fixated on the toy robots, and he crouches down further, face only inches from them as he examines them with excessive intensity.

Which one should be which?

"I am already on the floor. You're still standing." Said as if this is the most obviously logical thing in the world.

What is better?

[Blearily and with some of the gentle confusion of sleep still fogging her mind, Aredhel had wandered into the kitchen just as Zoë swallowed the pill, and watched the sudden change in her expression with the idle curiosity of someone not awake enough for alarm yet.

The statement was enough to at least spur her into a verbal response.]

The lack of eye contact is irritating, but not unusual; Mello knows Near well enough to expect nothing else. And his statement is logical, but only insofar as the circumstantial variables remain the same. A change to that changes the foundation of his statement.

"What if I sit down?" Mello does exactly that, arranging himself on the floor with one knee propped up in front of him. "Then your argument is fallacious."

He doesn't take his eyes off the robots, just tilts his head at them. "Then I wonder if you're doing it just to be contrary. And that was only one variable. You're also bigger and stronger than me. That box is heavy."

Calmly expanding on the logic after the first bit falls flat. He points at each of the robots in turn. "Which one?"

Yes, he is asking you to pick a robot for some reason.

"You're assuming I'm bigger and stronger." It's true, but how would Near know, since he hasn't seen fit to look directly at him? "Drawing conclusions based on assumptions rather than facts is lazy." Show your work goes without saying here.

The next question catches Mello a little off guard, enough so that he drops the previous argument in favor of pondering the reason for the question. For what purpose should he choose between the robots? What hidden meaning is there to determining that choice, and what would his answer betray about him? Mello considers his options silently for a moment, arms folded atop his knee, one gloved finger tapping along the top of his arm. He can't come up with any significant difference between the two robots, or what his choice might signify.

"That one," he says, finally, pointing to the robot closer to him.

"Your feet are big and your height can be extrapolated from that. Furthermore, from your voice, you are an adult and all adults are stronger than me."

Just because he hasn't looked directly at Mello doesn't mean he hasn't noticed things about him. He'd seen the feet in his peripheral vision. Near may not always look, but he always observes. There is a difference between the two, if only a slight one.

He pauses for a moment, considering the answer. And then he smiles softly. "Yes, I think that's good. That will be the Mello robot, then."

SCENARIO TWO: DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME >fear

[This forest is old. Tall, ancient trees grow into the sky, joining their crowns far above so that only a soft twilight hits the ground. Needles and leaves crunch under the feet of those who go here, between the trees that grow in a hilly landscape. Somewhere, a small stream can be heard in the distance, and every once in a while and slowly approaching, the laughter of a child and once or twice and adult woman's voice, commenting on something that the child said.

It's a peaceful, almost tranquil atmosphere, inviting one to sit down and enjoy the serenity.]

SCENARIO THREE: JUST SAY NO

[Well, taking that pill definitely was a good idea. Ever since she did this morning, there suddenly seems to be a neverending supply of hounds, horses and falcons of various sizes and breeds around the city. And all of them can speak! She would wonder where they all came from, if she wasn't so happy that they are there - she's really missed her favourite hunting companions.

To everyone who isn't her, it does however look like she treats all the other people in Hadriel like dogs or horses or birds - she'll talk to them, yes, but she'll also comment on how nice their fur is and how beautiful various parts of them are, and do they want a treat (yes, she has some on her by now) and then she'll just try to pet everyone if no countermeasures are taken.

She could be seen like this all morning, and now she just spotted a new "dog"/"horse"/"falcon" and grins, walking over with a skip in her step.]

I think no that we had the pleasure yet... I truly wonder how I could miss all of you beauties...

Edited 2016-05-21 22:59 (UTC)

As much as Mello is reluctant to concede to Near on general principle, he can't argue with the work he's shown. That's what he asked for, and he's satisfied enough by the answer to let the subject drop, especially in light of the business going on with the toys.

"Why are you calling it a Mello robot?" It's strange, hearing his own name dissociated from himself, applied to an inanimate object. But he's more interested than unsettled by the designation. "What is it about that robot in particular that makes it Mello?"

[She looks friendly, and Firo never minds stopping for an amiable chat. He slows when he sees the woman approaching and waves one hand in greeting.

He freezes when she actually talks, one eyebrow rising.]

Excuse me, miss?

["Beauties"? She must be talking about something else.]

"These are the two best robots. So one of them has to be me," casually delivered as anything, the idea that he is the best, "and therefore the other one has to be Mello."

Again, the most logical thing in the world. And along with the smile, there is the faintest hint of contentment in his voice. "I made my proof. Why aren't you getting the Lego?"

→ fear

[ She only tore one of these things in half by accident: when it got too close and she could feel her chest burning trying to hold her breath. Wanda is avoiding them as a rule: at least until she can find a gas mask and someone who knows the layout of the city. This would be easier with Pietro. She has put that in a small place where her conscious mind can't reach for it. ]

[ It doesn't mean she'll ignore one in her way, or others trying to fight or flee. Red flicks across its lower tentacles: the ones helping it walk, and you better avoid the spray of plant goo. ]

This way.

[ She emerges behind you. ]

Hurry, there will be more.

→ delight

[ She's not the kind of person to have suspicion live in the bones and keep looking over her shoulder, but something so deliberately placed never inspires confidence. Instead, Wanda pockets it and walks outside, approaches the first person she sees. ]

Excuse me. Did you get a blue pill?

→ wildcard me

[ anything else; go wild. ]

[Beauties...?

[Rey starts to say something, but then her hair is being petted.

[This is strange. This is certainly something that's never happened to her before.]

Um... Sorry? [She's trying to brain a response to what this woman just said, but her mind is just a little boggled right now.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 20

Test Drive Meme #9

oliver reeder | the thick of it | OTA

Re: one;

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gwen stacy, marvel 1610.

zoë malak ( original character )

michelle | 10 cloverfield lane

Newt Geiszler | Pacific Rim + Previous Game CR

POST-TENTACLE STUFF

Near | Death Note + CRAU

sobbing, the tentacles.

wailing, the dreaming.

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2!

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Aredhel | Silmarillion

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3!

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wanda maximoff | mcu, no spoilers.

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