test drive meme #13

[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 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, 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: DON'T LOOK AT ME
[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 hop right on you and chow down. This time, the Door has brought in several Boos, from the Mario video game series.

These monsters can be menacing, but are also incredibly shy. When looking directly at them, they will cover their faces and fade into the background- however, when turning away from them, they advance on you until they're in the perfect spot to take a nice big bite. The only way to defeat them is to escape this part of the level- that is, run madly away and try to keep up eye contact while you do so. They may look cartoonish, but those ghost teeth can be sharp!]

SCENARIO TWO: YOU'VE GOT RED ON YOU
[Hadriel is home to many things- temples, irate gods, angry citizens and... well, zombies, apparently. Beware as they start to walk/stagger/generally kind of shuffle around the streets of the city, since where there's one or two, there's usually a hundred more just waiting for the right moment to strike.

Zombies attack Hadriel by the dozen for this prompt, and nowhere in the city is technically safe from them! While they're not necessarily fast or intelligent, they have an advantage on you in that they have a lot more friends and they can't feel pain. So saddle up, bunker down, and try to survive the infestation!

This is a mini version of our Dead Men Walking event this month!]

R A G E

SCENARIO THREE: CAPTURE THE FLAG
[Hey, what's Hadriel without a few mind-numbingly stupid games to forget the fact that you're in a murdercave that routinely tries to scare the crap out of you while also maybe killing you every once in awhile? You're not quite sure who came up with this particular mind-numbingly stupid game, but you seem to be playing, so get your running shoes on and grab that inhaler!

This is a game of Capture the Flag, and thanks to Rage, you're really starting to feel that competitive spirit. You're going to win- you have to. So what if you incur a few fouls along the way?

There's a red team and a blue team for this prompt, with both teams trying to protect their corresponding flags. Try to strategize to take the other team's precious flag, chase someone from the opposing team down, or just go all out and full body tackle that poor guy who got a little too close to your territory- it's all on you!]

Comments

Sherlock Holmes | Sherlock (BBC)

[deerstalkers]

[Scenario One]

[Sherlock Holmes is used to trusting his senses. The last time he doubted them, it turned out he was very, very drugged by some impressively experimental hallucinogenic. It had not been enjoyable. Now, though, as he finds himself staring at a cartoon ghost (which he has no pop culture basis for because for a genius, he's thoroughly ignorant of anything he deems beyond what is necessary to know. This video game falls straight into that category) he wonders if that is happening again.

It doesn't feel the same though. And for a long moment he stands, still, staring at the ghost, taking a few steps backwards. But it doesn't move.

Some decoration then? With a frown, he turns to go. He's not sure what makes him glance back, but when he does, he catches the ghost moving, catches it hiding once more.] Clever trick... [But he doesn't sound all that impressed, more entirely annoyed.]


[Scenario Two]

[By now, Sherlock is convinced that he's in some extended hallucinatory dream. Maybe caused by some external source -- drugged or poisoned. Or his own over-ambitious leap down the rabbit hole of drug use. Either way, he's not pleased by it. And for the moment he's playing along, at least in so much as he's trying to avoid the zombies. Even in a fever dream he sees no appeal in getting chewed on.

There are a great number up of the things ahead, and while he's tucked into a narrow alcove trying to observe and figure out his next move, the sight of someone else walking nearby (and towards the small horde he's aware is around the corner) catches his attention. Sherlock is quick, without even more than a brief glimpse, to recognize that there is no shambling or shuffling, that it isn't one of those things. Another fraction of a second has him reaching out without a word to wrap fingers around a forearm and drag them into the narrow niche between building's where he's hiding away, hissing out a low shh as he does.] Entirely unpleasant lot around that corner. I'd recommend another destination.

Two.

[mismanagement]

[She doesn't see him in time. That's the first problem. The second is that her rifle is unwieldy in close quarters, nearly useless as a defensive tool unless she feels like bashing someone's skull in. With the current batch of monsters running around, it would barely make a dent in the scenery.

The third, and more pressing of the issues is that threat registers before human. Maketh reacts exactly as trained, and attacks his center of gravity.

It only occurs to her afterwards that she probably shouldn't be trying to smash people's knees before even saying hello. It's horribly rude and unprofessional.]

[deerstalkers]

[He sees it coming. He really does. In fact, he knew it was a risk that he might wind up catching someone on the defensive. But. That does not make it hurt any less, or help as he stumbles back against the wall, holding up a hand and fixing a sharp gaze on her.]

All right... I yield. That's enough. Thank you.

[He might be limping for a while. Give him some time here because that does smart. And really maybe he ought to have just left well enough alone. This is what he gets for trying to do something helpful, he supposes. The road to hell and good intentions and all.]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh skitters back, gaining enough distance to use the rifle properly if she has to. If she has to, if he makes a move, but he doesn't. One hand up in the air, breath wheezing in his chest.

A mistake. She shouldn't have done that.

Still, she doesn't lower the rifle.] Be quiet. It's not safe here. If you follow me, I can take you somewhere that is.

[deerstalkers]

Not sure how safe anywhere will be if I'm led there at gunpoint.

[Wryly spoken. But Sherlock straightens up and tries to settle himself back to order. Coat. Scarf. Okay ouch. But he's got this anyway.]

I'm aware we're lacking in safe out here though. So if there's somewhere slightly more secure that sounds quite appealing.

[As long as there's no further hitting.]

[mismanagement]

[Maketh supposes she deserves that.] If you are injured, I will take you to the clinic. If you are not, the guardpost has been secured.

[deerstalkers]

Not injured enough to warrant a clinic.

[He'll go for the guard post. Though now that he has someone to question he wants to know all sorts of things. He needs far more data than he currently has.] So this problem has been going on for a stretch I take it?

[mismanagement]

It is expected.

[A fuller explanation will have to wait. Maketh inclines her head.] If you are going to come, we need to go now.

[deerstalkers]

Expected? You make it sound like fog in London.

[Not a reassuring thing. But Sherlock nods at the reminder. Find. Movement now. Talking later.] Then by all means, lead on.

[mismanagement]

I don't know what that is.

[Fog, obviously. Beyond that, she has no idea. Perhaps it doesn't matter. Maketh clicks her teeth.] It's not far. Move now.

[She doesn't wait to see if he obeys or not before taking the lead.]

[deerstalkers]

Fog? Or London?

[Though if she knew London, it would be near impossible

But he's in motion behind her, not seeing any reason not to follow along with. He had no idea what this city was about, where anything was.]

[mismanagement]

London. I've seen fog.

[From a distance. She hadn't enjoyed it much. It presented a tactical disadvantage.]

[deerstalkers]

But you don't know...

[Dear lord was the state of geography teaching really in so sorry a state? But no that didn't seem right at all.

He falls silent as he follows now, letting his thoughts piece themselves together, run through what he's seen and heard, what he's learned since he got here.

This is either one of the stranger and longer lasting hallucinations he's ever had or he's really, truly somewhere strange. Some other world, which flies in the face of everything he's ever known to be true.

But when you eliminate the impossible...]

One

[acclimatize]

[ The last thing John remembers is being pulled out of a bloody bonfire. Sherlock and Mary standing over him. So, it's reasonable to assume this is all a dream. Right?

Except... he feels so tired. The side of his head throbbing from the cut along his hairline. And he smelled like smoke... He was even wearing the same clothes. It all seems a bit too detailed, a bit too surreal. Until he sees the ghost. And Sherlock with it.

He stands there, watching the interaction until he can't keep silent any longer. He calls out, ]

Sherlock?

[deerstalkers]

[That familiar voice, a voice that is so welcome that something in Sherlock immediately settles in relief, then rises in concern. If this is a hallucination, it's hardly surprising that he'd imagine John with him.

Still... He turns towards the sound of his voice.]

John. You're here as well? Well, if I'm hallucinating, at least I have good company.

[Unfortunately this exchange has him turning away from the boo. But Sherlock is distracted because John does not look like he's in good shape at all.] ...what's happened? You're hurt.

[acclimatize]

[ His brows go up at that even as his head protest even that much movement. Sherlock thought he was hallucinating? That does seem like something he would say...

He walks over to the other man, closing the distance between them. ]

You--you were there. I saw you. I was at Baker Street and then something was burning-

[ He looks behind Sherlock and points, ]

Is it suppose to keep doing that?

[deerstalkers]

[Good. Good come closer. Once John is within reach, Sherlock reaches out to the shorter man, long-fingered hand setting on either side of his face, to hold him still as he looks at the cut by his hairline, frowning at the familiarity of it. And at...]

You smell like smoke. Why do you smell like smoke? And you're wearing...

[Memory slams through him, recent enough that he does't even have to begin the trek through his memory palace to retrieve it. The bonfire. The terror at the idea of John being there, in that pyre, tearing him out of the burning pile and why would his subconscious bring this version of John here?] Saw me where? What's the last thing you remember?

[And then, a glance back and a frown.] Not sure. It does keep doing it though. Thinks it's clever. It isn't -- just tiresome.

[acclimatize]

[ John stares at Sherlock with slightly widened eyes when he cups his face like that. It's difficult, jarring. They hadn't been on speaking terms since the other man came back and when John had finally decided to see him, he had ended up in a pyre. The touch and the familiarity of it is enough to make him almost forget the ghost-thing. Almost.

The ghost sees them and covers its face again, disappearing. ]

I feel like I've seen that before but I can't remember where...

[ It's just so damn odd. ]

[deerstalkers]

Shut up about the bloody ghost thing, John. [Seriously John. He is trying to piece something together now. He lets his hands fall away after another moment, tough they only fall to the other man's shoulders. Singed. That smell of smoke. Exactly as he does remember it.

That night.]

The fire. This is what you looked like after the fire. [Huh.] Why would I think you up like that? There's no connection. Why that why then...

[And what does it have to do with stupid ghost things? His mind has never betrayed him this badly before, even on particularly disturbing trips down drug haze lane.]

[acclimatize]

[ John doesn't stop looking at it, ]

But it's right there and it keeps getting closer when you're not looking at it!

[ But he does actually look at Sherlock, frowning, ]

Wait. You thought me up? I'm the one thinking you up.

[deerstalkers]

[Sherlock spares a glance over his shoulder at the ghost that, well, okay yes it's closer. Huh. Still more annoying than anything else.

Then John says that, and he looks entirely surprised.] You think you're thinking me up? [Oh, Oh John. That's adorable that you think you could.] No, I'm not a figment of anyone's imagination. Not yours. Your mind couldn't possibly put mine together on its own.

[...he doesn't mean that as an insult. Just fact.]

[acclimatize]

[ John's mouth drops open and then closes as he steps away, frowning more. Funny, it sounds like an insult from where he's standing. ]

I am not a figment of your imagination, Sherlock. I'm either as real as you or I'm dead and this is some fresh form of hell.

[ Holding out his arms to gesture to everything around them. ]

[deerstalkers]

[There is a very visible flinch in Sherlock when John says or I'm dead. And it's too easy to remember that night, not knowing if they'd get to John in time, all too easy with the scent of smoke about the other man to remember rushing towards the fire. He shakes his head.]

You are not dead.

[And besides he doubted hell existed at all. And if it did it was certainly not populated by cartoony ghosts.] But this has to be a hallucination. Some shared psychosis perhaps? Folie à deux?

[acclimatize]

[ Dryly, ]

I was just in a fire. Makes more sense than a shared hallucination but alright.

[ He looks around them again before his eyes fix on the ghost. He starts walking backwards, keeping his eyes on the thing. ]

Why don't why get away from that thing, first?

[deerstalkers]

The fire was weeks ago. And Mary and I got there in time. I pulled you out. You were shaken but alive.

[Though still no explanation for why John had been nearly killed. And why Sherlock had been taunted to find and save him. He frowns now. Another glance over his shoulder. The ghost. All right. Perhaps away from it was the best.]

All right. Away from it. It seems to only pursue when it isn't directly watched. So keep an eye on it.

[Sherlock will step around him and reach for the other man's hand.] I'll lead. Just keep watching it.