If you'd like to apply to Snowblind and would like to test the waters first or get a sample set up for your application, this meme is for you! We've even provided some prompts for you to use if you want (but feel free to make up your own). Here's how it works.
✭ Reply to this entry with a character you're considering apping into the game. You can include the name of your character and the fandom in your subject line. ✭ Comment around to others on the meme, whether you're in the game already or not. ✭ Now you have a sample ready for your application! ✭ So go reserve and apply when reservations and applications are open. ✭ Seriously, do it.
Network Prompts
ONE: YOUR COOPERATION IS APPRECIATED When you wake up, you find that a new application has been downloaded to your tablet. It's titled "SURVEY" and is exactly what it claims to be--although there's no explanation to why it's appeared or what it is for other than the note that claims the survey is not opt-out and that your cooperation is appreciated. And more troubling, the questions become more sinister the farther in you answer. Such questions as, "on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your stay?" and "have your needs been met in a timely manner?" become more akin to, "if you had to chose between the two, would you eat your hands or your feet to stave off the hunger?" and "are you sure you are not the last one still alive?"
Perhaps someone on the Network would like to discuss what this could mean--and if there are any consequences behind finishing or refusing to take the survey.
TWO: NOT SO HELPFUL AVATARS Every tablet has the option for a customizable avatar that will talk to you and keep your tablet in order. Maybe you set it up, maybe you never checked it. Either way, it keeps popping up unrequested and being sort of... Odd. Flickering, talking in strange, mechanical voices, offering advice that's unhelpful at best and actively harmful at worst... Maybe it's even telling the entire network some things you've been doing you'd rather everyone didn't know.
Time to call tech support. Unfortunately, the best option is other people on the network. Good luck.
Action Prompts
THREE: SPIDERS IN THE WALLS Somehow you or your travel companion injured themselves. A quick call to the admin fixed this, but now you can't help but be gripped with the burning curiosity of where the helpful spiders she deployed have gone. You saw them scramble toward the vents, but by the time paralysis wore off they'd completely disappeared. Only now you can't stop thinking about them. Where do they go to? How can they be trapped or followed? You swear you hear little mechanical pattering inside the walls. Maybe you can find some sort of tool to help you break into a vent around the house. Or maybe your companion can convince you to rest before you hurt yourself.
FOUR: SCHOOL DAYS You've ended up in the elementary school. Maybe you're grabbing more food, maybe you're exploring. Either way, this place is creepy; the atmosphere is the sort that gets the hair on the back of your neck rising (potentially metaphorically, if you don't have hair or a neck). It's not long before strange things start happening. The sound of running and screaming children, doors slamming in far off or nearby hallways, pianos playing... What's going on? It's hard to tell what's really happening from what isn't happening. Maybe someone who's also exploring has some idea.
[It was a close call, and Natasha isn't a fan of asking the Admin for help, especially not when that help comes in the form of little robospiders she knows nothing about, but it was that or let her traveling partner die, so the choice was obvious. She's letting them rest now, keeping watch just in case. They might be locked in for the night, but Natasha still doesn't know what the rules are here, so she's in strict survival mode. Trust nothing.
Like those spiders. They went back into the vents, she thinks. It was hard to tell when she was paralyzed, her gaze fixed up at the ceiling, but that's where it seemed like they were going. Now, she almost thinks she can hear them moving around in the walls. The sound is so faint that she can't be sure, really. It could be the wind, or any number of a million things, but... Maybe the spiders are part of the surveillance system? The tablets certainly are, but if she can get her hand on one of those spiders, it might be easier to break open. There's a chance she could figure out what they are, exactly, or at least get an idea of how they work.
After a few silent moments, Natasha stands up, grabbing the sharpened bit of rubble she's been using as a makeshift knife. She drags a table over to one of the walls and hops up on top of it, reaching up to get at one of the vents near the ceiling, and starts to work at the screws. She can't get them to turn, so she gives up on that, prying at the edge of the vent with her shiv. There's something off about her movements—she's usually so careful, but now, she doesn't even seem to notice that the edges of the metal are cutting into her palm, and there's blood slowly welling in her hand and then drip, drip, dripping down her arm and onto the table.]
[Steve's own paralysis wore off a couple of minutes later, and he groans as he pushes himself to a sitting position. It's been a while since he's been blown up. Fuckin' hell but he hadn't missed it. He glances down at himself—clothes charred, and full of holes, and covered in blood—great—and then looks over to Natasha.
Natasha, holy crap. Surprise of his life running into her like that. Good thing, too, his memory after the blast is pretty fuzzy but she almost definitely saved his life.]
Natasha...
[He started to smile but his smile rapidly fades. She's bleeding. He pushes himself to his feet and hurries over to her.]
Nat, the hell are you doing, you're hurting yourself! [He reaches to wrap a hand around her wrist to try to stop her.]
[More proof something is wrong: Miss Super Spy doesn't even hear him get up, and she starts when he grabs her wrist, yanking it away instinctively as she turns her head. Their eyes lock and she relaxes, although she's still got a tight hold on her knife.]
What?
[She blinks, glancing over at the vent and then back to him.]
I'm fine, Steve. Go lay down.
[It's obvious she just wants to get back to working at that vent. Nat, stop being a weirdo.]
[Yeah, she is definitely acting weird. And when has Steve ever been able to sneak up on her? Never, that's when.]
I'm fine too, Natasha. [He tugs at his clothing where it's shredded, showing her bloodstained but entirely unmarred skin.] See? Spiders fixed me right up. It's you I'm worried about. You wanna put the shiv away so I can take a look at your hand?
[Spiders. Yeah, they definitely fixed him up, and now they're in the walls, and she needs to figure out why. She's looking distracted again, eyes flicking to the vent as he continues to speak.]
Nothing's wrong with my hand. Just give me a minute.
[And, if he doesn't stop her, she'll turn away and try to wedge the bit of rubble between the wall and the vent cover again.]
Romanov. [Steve puts a little of the Command Voice into it. He looks her in the eye, trying for equal parts stern and gentle. He holds out his hand.] Hand it over.
[Something about that finally clicks with her. It's the tone, probably. She's spent so many years with him on dangerous missions—or a version of him—so she listens instinctively.
And, just like that, something about her changes. Her posture loosens, her expression clearing, and then she looks down at her hand and sees the blood, and exhales. Shit. It hurts to open her hand when she hands him the shiv, and when she pulls her hand away, it's obvious that the metal has left deep cuts in her palm. Natasha opens and closes her hand experimentally, wincing slightly as she does.]
Huh. Looks like I got too excited.
[She's brushing it off automatically. Obviously, that isn't what it was. Obviously, something was affecting her, but it's easier to act like it was nothing. This is Steve, but he's different, and so her walls are still up, at least a little.]
Yeah, I'll say. [He weighs the shiv in his hands, watching her with a worried eye, but for the moment, at least, she seems fully present and in control of herself. He jerks his head toward his pack.] I've got a first aid kit. Come sit down.
[Natasha follows readily now, sitting down and holding her hand out a little awkwardly, trying not to get even more blood on her coat. She caught that worried look, but she's not sure how to reassure him that she's alright. She's not entirely sure she's alright. Whatever that was... Paranoia, or some deeper instinct to pick at that vent even as she injured herself... It slips too close to parts of her past she tries not to consider. Most things she's made peace with. Anything mind altering tugs at some instinctive revulsion she's never been able to shake.
As she waits for him to get the kit, she flexes her hand again.]
Can I see? [He gently takes her hand, peering at the cuts before nodding, satisfied.] I agree. Still, can't have you bleeding everywhere. [He quirks a small smile at her.] Or, you know, getting an infection.
[Steve opens up the little kit and pokes through it.] There's not much to this kit, honestly, but at least the gauze is sterile. [He pulls out a disinfecting wipe, then holds out his hand for hers, smiling.] May I?
[She lets out a soft sound, almost a laugh, and places her hand in his, palm up. She's had worse, really, but she also hasn't had a serious infection in decades. It's another thing she needs to keep reminding herself of. No punched up immune system anymore.]
Careful. You wouldn't want to stain that nice shirt.
[Steve looks down at his ruined clothing and snorts in amusement.] D'you like it? It's the height of fashion. 'Pre-distressed' I think they call it. [He wipes at her hand, carefully but with brisk efficiency, trying to get some of the blood cleaned up. After a moment he glances up at her with a warm smile.]
[Natasha smiles a little at the joke, but it's guarded. She still thinks she can hear those spiders scritching in the walls, and that urge to find them is welling up again. Steve wipes at her hand and, despite his gentleness, the wound stings. She doesn't quite flinch, but she does grit her teeth, and the pain pulls her back to herself.]
I was running late. [A beat, and then:] Tell me about the spiders.
[Usually, the wound wouldn't even be something he'd be bothered about; just a scratch. But in this place, it hurts, more than Geralt is really comfortable admitting. And when they stopped, he had no potions, no oitments to put on the wound, nothing to cauterize it with, and not much to stop the bleeding.
Calling the Admin had been their only solution. Not that Natasha gave him much of an option anyway. He's still shaking off the paralysis effects when she stands, grabbing her makeshift knife, hops on a table and goes for the vent above her head.
Soon enough, there is blood dripping down her arm. Geralt stands, going for his pack and grabbing the poker he found in a house days back now. He jumps up on the table in a smooth, easy move - the wound completely gone now, the pain already a memory - and hands her the weapon.]
Here, use this. We don't want to have to call them again.
[Natasha turns when she hears him approach, sticking the shiv in the pocket of her coat and taking the poker readily with a nod of thanks. She's managed to pry the vent away from the wall just enough to stick the poker into the gap, and then she grabs the poker with both hands and uses it as a lever, putting all her weight behind prying it off. For whatever reason, it isn't really working—she gets the cover to move a little, but it's disturbingly hard to break off for some reason. Natasha lets out a soft, annoyed noise as blood continues to drip down onto the table.]
[For a while, Emily just watches from the safety of her hiding place. She's typically quite feisty, but in dire times, she isn't against doing what she's best at doing: playing hide and go seek.
Natasha had startled her lying on the ground; worse, the strange spiders worried her even more, and she didn't dare emerge even to help Natasha until she was certain of what they had been. Now they have scuttled off.
It was a bit until Natasha could move. The spiders had washed away into the vents.] Excuse me. [The high, small voice of a girl. She's partially still a silhouette.]
[Natasha didn't even notice the little girl hiding in the house, probably because she'd practically collapsed when she got in the door. She'd just barely had enough time to request assistance before going into shock, but now she's good as new. It's unsettling, but not something she can dwell on.
But now, she hears someone talking, and her head turns immediately towards the voice. Her demeanor softens, just a little. Just a kid, and Natasha is—bleeding?
She looks down at her hand, seems to consider the blood for a second, and then just gets right back to working at the vent.]
[Natasha finally stops when Emily speaks up, turning to face her. She switches the shiv to her other hand, shaking the injured one so that blood splatters on the table. If she notices this, she doesn't seem to mind. She can hear the spiders scratching in the walls, and it's driving her nuts.]
[At least Natasha stopped dicing a hand. Emily is relieved only because watching it made her feel uneasy.
She nods her head.] This way. [She turns to lead the way, feet quick, but only for a child. Natasha can keep up easily.] You hear them, don't you? The metal spiders that came when you asked for help.
[Natasha wipes the blood off on the fabric of her catsuit absently. She's still not thinking straight.]
Where did they go after they were done? I couldn't turn my head.
[If they are in the walls like Natasha thinks they are, that's all the more reason to think they might be gathering information somehow, or have some other function beyond medical assistance.]
[She looks over her shoulder to make sure Nat is still following along, pausing only to allow Nat to catch up.] The inside tunnels. [Then she nods toward the vent as they get to it. A misshapen, rusted thing. One corner has been bent away, leaving a little hole behind, black and ominous.]
They scurried away.
They were very fast, but I can still hear them inside. I think I can fit in the vent, but I can't get it open myself. I tried to put a piece of wood in the side and push it open, but the wood broke.
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snowblindmemes2016-06-14 08:57 pm
Natasha Romanov | Marvel 616
[It was a close call, and Natasha isn't a fan of asking the Admin for help, especially not when that help comes in the form of little robospiders she knows nothing about, but it was that or let her traveling partner die, so the choice was obvious. She's letting them rest now, keeping watch just in case. They might be locked in for the night, but Natasha still doesn't know what the rules are here, so she's in strict survival mode. Trust nothing.
Like those spiders. They went back into the vents, she thinks. It was hard to tell when she was paralyzed, her gaze fixed up at the ceiling, but that's where it seemed like they were going. Now, she almost thinks she can hear them moving around in the walls. The sound is so faint that she can't be sure, really. It could be the wind, or any number of a million things, but... Maybe the spiders are part of the surveillance system? The tablets certainly are, but if she can get her hand on one of those spiders, it might be easier to break open. There's a chance she could figure out what they are, exactly, or at least get an idea of how they work.
After a few silent moments, Natasha stands up, grabbing the sharpened bit of rubble she's been using as a makeshift knife. She drags a table over to one of the walls and hops up on top of it, reaching up to get at one of the vents near the ceiling, and starts to work at the screws. She can't get them to turn, so she gives up on that, prying at the edge of the vent with her shiv. There's something off about her movements—she's usually so careful, but now, she doesn't even seem to notice that the edges of the metal are cutting into her palm, and there's blood slowly welling in her hand and then drip, drip, dripping down her arm and onto the table.]
no subject
Natasha, holy crap. Surprise of his life running into her like that. Good thing, too, his memory after the blast is pretty fuzzy but she almost definitely saved his life.]
Natasha...
[He started to smile but his smile rapidly fades. She's bleeding. He pushes himself to his feet and hurries over to her.]
Nat, the hell are you doing, you're hurting yourself! [He reaches to wrap a hand around her wrist to try to stop her.]
no subject
What?
[She blinks, glancing over at the vent and then back to him.]
I'm fine, Steve. Go lay down.
[It's obvious she just wants to get back to working at that vent. Nat, stop being a weirdo.]
no subject
I'm fine too, Natasha. [He tugs at his clothing where it's shredded, showing her bloodstained but entirely unmarred skin.] See? Spiders fixed me right up. It's you I'm worried about. You wanna put the shiv away so I can take a look at your hand?
no subject
Nothing's wrong with my hand. Just give me a minute.
[And, if he doesn't stop her, she'll turn away and try to wedge the bit of rubble between the wall and the vent cover again.]
no subject
no subject
And, just like that, something about her changes. Her posture loosens, her expression clearing, and then she looks down at her hand and sees the blood, and exhales. Shit. It hurts to open her hand when she hands him the shiv, and when she pulls her hand away, it's obvious that the metal has left deep cuts in her palm. Natasha opens and closes her hand experimentally, wincing slightly as she does.]
Huh. Looks like I got too excited.
[She's brushing it off automatically. Obviously, that isn't what it was. Obviously, something was affecting her, but it's easier to act like it was nothing. This is Steve, but he's different, and so her walls are still up, at least a little.]
no subject
no subject
As she waits for him to get the kit, she flexes her hand again.]
It's not deep. It doesn't need stitches.
no subject
[Steve opens up the little kit and pokes through it.] There's not much to this kit, honestly, but at least the gauze is sterile. [He pulls out a disinfecting wipe, then holds out his hand for hers, smiling.] May I?
no subject
Careful. You wouldn't want to stain that nice shirt.
no subject
It's damned good to see you, Nat.
no subject
I was running late. [A beat, and then:] Tell me about the spiders.
no subject
Calling the Admin had been their only solution. Not that Natasha gave him much of an option anyway. He's still shaking off the paralysis effects when she stands, grabbing her makeshift knife, hops on a table and goes for the vent above her head.
Soon enough, there is blood dripping down her arm. Geralt stands, going for his pack and grabbing the poker he found in a house days back now. He jumps up on the table in a smooth, easy move - the wound completely gone now, the pain already a memory - and hands her the weapon.]
Here, use this. We don't want to have to call them again.
no subject
Give me a hand?
:')
Natasha had startled her lying on the ground; worse, the strange spiders worried her even more, and she didn't dare emerge even to help Natasha until she was certain of what they had been. Now they have scuttled off.
It was a bit until Natasha could move. The spiders had washed away into the vents.] Excuse me. [The high, small voice of a girl. She's partially still a silhouette.]
Are you trying to follow the spiders?
Um... You're... bleeding.
hey cutie
But now, she hears someone talking, and her head turns immediately towards the voice. Her demeanor softens, just a little. Just a kid, and Natasha is—bleeding?
She looks down at her hand, seems to consider the blood for a second, and then just gets right back to working at the vent.]
It's nothing. I'm fine.
no subject
For some time, Emily just watches Natasha work in silence. She's not too fond of the bleeding, but she is fond of the persistence.]
I've tried to get in there, but they won't open. They're stuck. I found one that was broken, but I'm not strong enough.
Maybe you should try that one instead.
no subject
Where is it? Can you show me?
no subject
She nods her head.] This way. [She turns to lead the way, feet quick, but only for a child. Natasha can keep up easily.] You hear them, don't you? The metal spiders that came when you asked for help.
I hear them, too. I hear their little feet.
no subject
Where did they go after they were done? I couldn't turn my head.
[If they are in the walls like Natasha thinks they are, that's all the more reason to think they might be gathering information somehow, or have some other function beyond medical assistance.]
no subject
They scurried away.
They were very fast, but I can still hear them inside. I think I can fit in the vent, but I can't get it open myself. I tried to put a piece of wood in the side and push it open, but the wood broke.