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: SPAM IS MEANT FOR A CAN You awoke today to find a private message in your inbox full of glitchy text from an unreadable username. It doesn't seem to be from @ADMIN, and it's doubtful that any of your fellow unfortunate survivalists have the ability to send a bunch of garbage text from a dummy username. Any attempts to contact the sender of the message only yield silence.
Perhaps your friends on the network will have a better idea of what's going on.
TWO: DING DONG PING PONG You found an app on an SD card that lets you play a game--the app simply refers to it as "game," but those who are familiar with Earth's gaming history will recognize it as Pong. The graphics have been updated, but the mechanics are as simple as ever. Just bounce the ball back and forth and try to hit it past your opponent. This version lets you play with a friend over the network and supports chat simultaneously, so you can video or voice chat while playing with someone!
Or you can use text, but that would probably be inconvenient while you're trying to play.
Action Prompts
THREE: BABY IT'S COLD OUTSIDE The blizzard has been raging worse than usual for nearly a week now, making travel incredibly dangerous. You and your travelling companion have been stuck in the same house since the weather went out of control, and it's starting to have an effect. While you've not yet succumb to the dangerous fugue that would lead you out into the snow, cabin fever is definitely starting to set in for you...and whoever you're stuck with.
As long as you keep telling yourself the eyes on the walls aren't real. You're the only one who can see them, after all.
FOUR: A TENT-ATIVE FRIENDSHIP Everything has locked down for the night, and it looks like you're trapped outside. This almost certainly means death, but maybe you don't have to take it lying down. You walk for a while, and--what's that? Through the snow, the light of your tablet faintly illuminates the shape of a tent. It seems someone else is stuck out here, too, but they've been luckier in their searches than you.
Time to go see if they'll take pity on you for the night. You probably don't have much longer otherwise...
Ugh. What an excellent and thoughtful friend! I should have known you'd look after me. Sniff after me? Whatever!
[ Huh. Vriska's newly-constructed Pile of Crap isn't exactly big enough to sleep on, and with Terezi being an inhospitable nookgaping fucklord for no reason (!!!!!!!!) it doesn't leave her with much choice as far as relaxation goes. If she were sensible, she'd pack away her things again to give herself more room.
But she's Vriska so instead she kind of uses the pile as a really weird pillow and stretches out her legs so that they drape over whatever parts of Terezi they can reach. AHHHHHH, COMFORT~ ]
[oof. terezi really should have known she was going to pull something like this. GOD VR1SK4 WHY 4R3 YOUR L3GS SO F4T >XO !!!]
I don't have much, tee-bee-aitch. I've been trying to head over to one of the stores to restock! [she grins and leans forward -- or, as best as one can when someone's legs are flopped all over you.] But I'll show you mine, if you show me yours.
Ugggggggghhhhhhh. Good thing one of us has both feet in the competence pool! What would you do without me?
[ Vriska. Vriska you were going to freeze to death. Fuck you you fucking fuck of a fuck.
She twists around to dig through her pile-slash-pillow and eventually comes up with the remains of her food supply in the form of a small, slimy something wrapped in tissues. It makes a pretty horrifying squelching sound as she peels back the tissues and holds it aloft.
It.
It's a mouldy sandwich.
An exceptionally mouldy sandwich. It looks like it might have had jelly in it at some point? Something sticky, anyway, since there are shreds of tissue stuck to the stuff oozing out of the bread. Delish. ]
terezi recoils in physical horror at the stench assaulting her sensitive sniffnodes. her olfactory map of the tent disappears as she desperately holds her breath in an attempt to get away from the smell. why does vriska have this? why did she think it was ever okay to take it with her? why is she still carrying it around? was she genuinely intending to eat it one day? was she holding on to it just for the express purpose of one day disgusting terezi with it?
terezi valiantly holds back a gag and waves in the sandwich's general direction as she pulls out a small box of off-brand crackers.]
Jegus, put that away! Why in the world do you even have something like that?
[ These are words. Words that are actually coming from Vriska's mouth. Words she is actually saying with no hint of irony or self-awareness. Vriska. ]
You can just pick off the gross bits. We both know you've slapped your tongue all over worse things, wow!
[ Maybe if she just kind of. Wipes off some of the mould with the discarded tissue? Yeah.
Except that the sandwich is so gross and rotten that doing so pretty much turns it into a handful of mulch. The grody blue fuzzfungus that was previously forming a hideous crust over the sammich has now been fully incorporated into the heaving handful of ooze.
Somewhere, somewhen, Troll Gordon Ramsay is on the set of one of his hit cooking shows. The hapless contestants are attempting to cook Grub Wellington. It's going terribly - he has called each of them a braying hoofbeast at least twice, three lowbloods are crying in a refrigeration hull, and someone has managed to burn a risotto even though it isn't actually on the menu. It's going to make great TV. Life has never been better.
Suddenly, faint echoes of the existence of The Sandwich ripple throughout space and time and enter the far reaches of the chef's thinkmeats. It's only the faintest, vaguest impression - but Troll Gordon Ramsay is now burdened with the knowledge that somewhere out there there is a Thing that tastes so unbearably bad that it makes everything else taste amazing in comparison. He weeps, softly, proclaiming that every dish anyone hands to him is the greatest fucking thing he's ever bloody tasted, yeah.
He never finds fault with any meal ever again. His career is over, and he dies weeping into a bucket of KFG when meteors slam into Alternia some time later. ]
[there is not enough antibacterial sanitizer in the entire world to clean off the biohazardous wasteland that vriska's hands have become. she's going to need a full chem shower with a scrubdown from people in hazmat suits before she can touch anything ever again. vriska is a danger zone.
terezi straightens. composes herself. the room comes back into focus again, save for a terrifying sandwich black hole of smell. she has come to A Decision.]
I'll trust you on that...
[dramatic pause!!!]
But only if you can get through a bite of it first.
[a surprised, high pitched cackle issues forth from terezi's horrible maw. it's a sound like a hyena's giggling and a rusty chainsaw. she would kick her feet in delight if she had the room for it.
she hadn't actually expected vriska to do it.]
I could have told you that. What did you think was going to happen?
[she just hopes that vriska's not gonna. like. get poisoned from this and fucking die or something. she's half convinced that's a very real possibility.]
[ Vriska can't even muster up a "can it, Pyrope." She is too busy staying perfectly still and not moving her tongue in case it rots away completely and falls off.
The remains of the sandwich slide gloopily down her palm and splatter on the floor of the tent. Gross. It snaps Vriska out of her horrified tongue-paralysis, though, and she slowly looks away from her hand towards Terezi. ]
Shut up is what I thought.
I need to wipe my hand on something.
[ Like, say, a troll who is looking entirely too happy about all this???? ]
[terezi does a complete 180 and lets out an undignified yelp as the gross mass of food plops onto the floor. it stops being funny once she's the one in danger of it. the only reason she doesn't jerk away is because she's caged in by vriska's legs. she doesn't want to be anywhere near that mess.
she rifles through her pack for something -- anything that vriska can use. the closest workable thing at hand is a wadded up t-shirt, and she tosses it immediately.]
... You had an extra t-shirt? And you weren't wearing it? What the fuck.
[ Not that the Great Norfinbury Clothing Shortage is going to stop Vriska wiping off her hand on that thing, obviously. By morning the shirt will have mysteriously disappeared. Was it confiscated by the admin as a deadly weapon? Did the sammichgoo just eat through the entire thing?? ~*WHO KNOWS*~ ]
Layers are important. Everybody knows that! When you are in the lad of snow and bullshit, you are supposed to bundle up in as many layers as possible until you look like a fat little grub ripe for the culling. God.
[holy fuck. thanks phone. thanks for not giving that tag the proper look of disgust it needed.]
It's too big for me!
[this is not difficult to imagine. many articles of clothing would be too big for terezi. she's built like a bunch of really shitty katanas taped together in the shape of a girl. even so, she is going to freeze to death one day if she keeps being such a whiny baby about her clothes. :/// ]
I put it on, but it felt too weird and baggy! I was practically swimming in it. I wanted to ditch it back at the last house, but I got too creeped out by the five million clowns. It felt like they were judging me.
[much like how humans instinctively know to avoid large predators, bacterial food hazards, and furries, the countless clown collectibles hit a kind of primal, cultural fear. alternian clowns are bad news. except, of course, our dear, sweet gamzee who could never hurt a fly!!!]
Can it, Pyrope! I either accept that you're a lying liar who lies, or I have to live with the knowledge that Clown House isn't just a dumb story the other losers here made up to scare wigglers with.
And also that you made it out of there alive, without any scarring that I can see. So I repeat! Bull. Shiiiiiiiit.
[ If clown house is real then why didn't you burn it down, Terezi? WHY DIDN'T YOU BURN IT DOWN ]
[terezi wordlessly hands her tablet over. there's a small album in her pictures folder labeled "WHY 4M 1 3V3N H3R3 TH1S 1S TH3 WORST" of her taking selfies with various clown figurines. there are a lot of them. she went room to room and snapped photos of herself in every one of them.
she is never facing the right way in any of the pictures. she is always making the duck face.]
[ Vriska stares at the pictures. She stares at Terezi. She stares into the void that has opened up in the fabric of the universe, sucking inside all that is good and holy and replacing it with clowns. ]
8h m8 g8d.
[ While she doesn't pronounce them, because that would be silly, the eights are somehow audible anyway. ]
Oh my god, you have been through so much. I would almost feel sorry for you, if I weren't simultaneously wanting to recoil because holy fuck what if you're tainted now? What if when I wake up you are looming over me wearing shitty clown makeup and honking and wearing pants that are just inexplicable?
[before she's able to stop herself and think logically for two seconds, there's a moment of pure, whitehot fear that races down her spine and into her gut.]
What do you think the incubation time is on that...?
[she's silent for a moment, then she shakes her head determinedly.]
No. No. It has to be cultural. One does not simply catch a clown disease. That is absolutely preposterous. Dear, sweet Gamzee couldn't help being exposed to greasy make-up and shitty rap music and ugly pants while growing up! It is a well known fact that indigos are just completely fucking weird, anyway! Who knows why they do what they do in that religion of theirs?
[faygo is the most disgusting thing in the universe. why do they drink it. why.]
[ Well. Indigos are pretty weird. Even dear sweet innocent Gamzee.
AND YET. ]
But what if that's what happened to the humans who used to live here? What if they aren't here any more because they got down with the clown? And all those weird clown toys had to have come from somewhere.
[ just gonna. lift her legs off Terezi. And scootle as far into a corner as possible. UNCLEAN ]
or very possibly what actually happened??????????????
no. no. no no no no no. that's not true. that's impossible.]
[stick to your guns, pyrope. life would never be so cruel as to conspire to make you a dirty clownfucker. you have to believe that.
you have to believe that.]
If that's the case, then why aren't there any other such houses around town? If this was truly the epidemic you think it is, then surely there'd be more signs of rampant clown fixation!
[ That does require some thought. Very serious headscratchy thought.
Wait no it doesn't THE ANSWER IS OBVIOUS ]
Because sooner or later, eeeeeeeeverybody is drawn to Clown House. And it is only then that they get infected by the rednosed pestilence! Humans don't make it out before changing because of how soft and weak and unprepared they are. We are superior and tougher and so you have lasted longer! Duh.
It's like that one story. The Dionaea Hive. But with clowns.
That is a huge, steaming pile of hoofbeast leavings and you know it, Serket! That is nothing but speculation, pure and simple. You have no evidence for your exceptionally silly theory!
[a legislacerator, despite always having a chief suspect that she will hold guilty until they're dangling from the noose, knows and understands the value of calling out their opponent's lack of proof.]
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snowblindmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snowblindmemes2016-01-16 05:18 pm
no subject
[ Huh. Vriska's newly-constructed Pile of Crap isn't exactly big enough to sleep on, and with Terezi being an inhospitable nookgaping fucklord for no reason (!!!!!!!!) it doesn't leave her with much choice as far as relaxation goes. If she were sensible, she'd pack away her things again to give herself more room.
But she's Vriska so instead she kind of uses the pile as a really weird pillow and stretches out her legs so that they drape over whatever parts of Terezi they can reach. AHHHHHH, COMFORT~ ]
[Brightly:] So! What's for eats?
no subject
I don't have much, tee-bee-aitch. I've been trying to head over to one of the stores to restock! [she grins and leans forward -- or, as best as one can when someone's legs are flopped all over you.] But I'll show you mine, if you show me yours.
no subject
[ Vriska. Vriska you were going to freeze to death. Fuck you you fucking fuck of a fuck.
She twists around to dig through her pile-slash-pillow and eventually comes up with the remains of her food supply in the form of a small, slimy something wrapped in tissues. It makes a pretty horrifying squelching sound as she peels back the tissues and holds it aloft.
It.
It's a mouldy sandwich.
An exceptionally mouldy sandwich. It looks like it might have had jelly in it at some point? Something sticky, anyway, since there are shreds of tissue stuck to the stuff oozing out of the bread. Delish. ]
You are welcome.
no subject
Holy shit!
[vriska. vriska, please.
terezi recoils in physical horror at the stench assaulting her sensitive sniffnodes. her olfactory map of the tent disappears as she desperately holds her breath in an attempt to get away from the smell. why does vriska have this? why did she think it was ever okay to take it with her? why is she still carrying it around? was she genuinely intending to eat it one day? was she holding on to it just for the express purpose of one day disgusting terezi with it?
terezi valiantly holds back a gag and waves in the sandwich's general direction as she pulls out a small box of off-brand crackers.]
Jegus, put that away! Why in the world do you even have something like that?
no subject
[ These are words. Words that are actually coming from Vriska's mouth. Words she is actually saying with no hint of irony or self-awareness. Vriska. ]
You can just pick off the gross bits. We both know you've slapped your tongue all over worse things, wow!
[ Maybe if she just kind of. Wipes off some of the mould with the discarded tissue? Yeah.
Except that the sandwich is so gross and rotten that doing so pretty much turns it into a handful of mulch. The grody blue fuzzfungus that was previously forming a hideous crust over the sammich has now been fully incorporated into the heaving handful of ooze.
Somewhere, somewhen, Troll Gordon Ramsay is on the set of one of his hit cooking shows. The hapless contestants are attempting to cook Grub Wellington. It's going terribly - he has called each of them a braying hoofbeast at least twice, three lowbloods are crying in a refrigeration hull, and someone has managed to burn a risotto even though it isn't actually on the menu. It's going to make great TV. Life has never been better.
Suddenly, faint echoes of the existence of The Sandwich ripple throughout space and time and enter the far reaches of the chef's thinkmeats. It's only the faintest, vaguest impression - but Troll Gordon Ramsay is now burdened with the knowledge that somewhere out there there is a Thing that tastes so unbearably bad that it makes everything else taste amazing in comparison. He weeps, softly, proclaiming that every dish anyone hands to him is the greatest fucking thing he's ever bloody tasted, yeah.
He never finds fault with any meal ever again. His career is over, and he dies weeping into a bucket of KFG when meteors slam into Alternia some time later. ]
See? Still good.
no subject
[there is not enough antibacterial sanitizer in the entire world to clean off the biohazardous wasteland that vriska's hands have become. she's going to need a full chem shower with a scrubdown from people in hazmat suits before she can touch anything ever again. vriska is a danger zone.
terezi straightens. composes herself. the room comes back into focus again, save for a terrifying sandwich black hole of smell. she has come to A Decision.]
I'll trust you on that...
[dramatic pause!!!]
But only if you can get through a bite of it first.
no subject
[ After all, this doesn't look too different to Vriska's own homemade grubloaf. There can't be anything that wrong with it, right? ]
But I don't think you're supposed to bite something like this. You've gotta just slurp i--
[ Vriska sticks out her tongue to demonstrate, then freezes as her tongue touches The Substance.
This lasts somewhere between ten seconds and ten hours. It's hard to tell exactly. ]
Thith wath a mithtake.
[ she is goiNG TO DIE ]
no subject
she hadn't actually expected vriska to do it.]
I could have told you that. What did you think was going to happen?
[she just hopes that vriska's not gonna. like. get poisoned from this and fucking die or something. she's half convinced that's a very real possibility.]
no subject
The remains of the sandwich slide gloopily down her palm and splatter on the floor of the tent. Gross. It snaps Vriska out of her horrified tongue-paralysis, though, and she slowly looks away from her hand towards Terezi. ]
Shut up is what I thought.
I need to wipe my hand on something.
[ Like, say, a troll who is looking entirely too happy about all this???? ]
no subject
she rifles through her pack for something -- anything that vriska can use. the closest workable thing at hand is a wadded up t-shirt, and she tosses it immediately.]
Here, just- take it!
[ewewewdsdfjfjskakdngj]
no subject
[ Not that the Great Norfinbury Clothing Shortage is going to stop Vriska wiping off her hand on that thing, obviously. By morning the shirt will have mysteriously disappeared. Was it confiscated by the admin as a deadly weapon? Did the sammichgoo just eat through the entire thing?? ~*WHO KNOWS*~ ]
Layers are important. Everybody knows that! When you are in the lad of snow and bullshit, you are supposed to bundle up in as many layers as possible until you look like a fat little grub ripe for the culling. God.
no subject
It's too big for me!
[this is not difficult to imagine. many articles of clothing would be too big for terezi. she's built like a bunch of really shitty katanas taped together in the shape of a girl. even so, she is going to freeze to death one day if she keeps being such a whiny baby about her clothes. :/// ]
I put it on, but it felt too weird and baggy! I was practically swimming in it. I wanted to ditch it back at the last house, but I got too creeped out by the five million clowns. It felt like they were judging me.
[much like how humans instinctively know to avoid large predators, bacterial food hazards, and furries, the countless clown collectibles hit a kind of primal, cultural fear. alternian clowns are bad news. except, of course, our dear, sweet gamzee who could never hurt a fly!!!]
no subject
[ Vriska has heard the legends, naturally. Clown house. The House of Clowns. A place discussed only in whispers, and never in polite company.
Clown. House. ]
And you've been there? Bullshit.
no subject
Wow!
[terezi flings her hands up in the air in exaggerated exasperation. u n b e l i e v a b l e !!!]
You think that I would lie about something as serious as this? Me?
I tell truths nobody wants to hear, but that's not the same as lying. I am offended, no, insulted that you think I'd do something like that. Rude!
no subject
And also that you made it out of there alive, without any scarring that I can see. So I repeat! Bull. Shiiiiiiiit.
[ If clown house is real then why didn't you burn it down, Terezi? WHY DIDN'T YOU BURN IT DOWN ]
no subject
she is never facing the right way in any of the pictures. she is always making the duck face.]
no subject
8h m8 g8d.
[ While she doesn't pronounce them, because that would be silly, the eights are somehow audible anyway. ]
Oh my god, you have been through so much. I would almost feel sorry for you, if I weren't simultaneously wanting to recoil because holy fuck what if you're tainted now? What if when I wake up you are looming over me wearing shitty clown makeup and honking and wearing pants that are just inexplicable?
no subject
What do you think the incubation time is on that...?
[she's silent for a moment, then she shakes her head determinedly.]
No. No. It has to be cultural. One does not simply catch a clown disease. That is absolutely preposterous. Dear, sweet Gamzee couldn't help being exposed to greasy make-up and shitty rap music and ugly pants while growing up! It is a well known fact that indigos are just completely fucking weird, anyway! Who knows why they do what they do in that religion of theirs?
[faygo is the most disgusting thing in the universe. why do they drink it. why.]
no subject
AND YET. ]
But what if that's what happened to the humans who used to live here? What if they aren't here any more because they got down with the clown? And all those weird clown toys had to have come from somewhere.
[ just gonna. lift her legs off Terezi. And scootle as far into a corner as possible. UNCLEAN ]
no subject
[implausible? improbable?
or very possibly what actually happened??????????????
no. no. no no no no no. that's not true. that's impossible.]
[stick to your guns, pyrope. life would never be so cruel as to conspire to make you a dirty clownfucker. you have to believe that.
you have to believe that.]
If that's the case, then why aren't there any other such houses around town? If this was truly the epidemic you think it is, then surely there'd be more signs of rampant clown fixation!
[your move, vriska!!!]
no subject
Wait no it doesn't THE ANSWER IS OBVIOUS ]
Because sooner or later, eeeeeeeeverybody is drawn to Clown House. And it is only then that they get infected by the rednosed pestilence! Humans don't make it out before changing because of how soft and weak and unprepared they are. We are superior and tougher and so you have lasted longer! Duh.
It's like that one story. The Dionaea Hive. But with clowns.
no subject
[a legislacerator, despite always having a chief suspect that she will hold guilty until they're dangling from the noose, knows and understands the value of calling out their opponent's lack of proof.]