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...
[Bertie hasn't sorted out how to change from one form of messaging to the other, so he defaults to what's available.]
Oh! Oh, I say, old prune, did you get one of those, too? 'Fraid I'm just getting used to all this phoning and wiring without the wires bit. Dashed odd, though, what? I don't think mine came from any sort of prince, either - Nigerian or otherwise.
I don't think I even know anyone in Nigeria. I did meet an African chappie looking for his tribe's statue once. Cursed. Rough business, but it all worked out in the end.
Are you feeling under the weather, though? You don't sound like you've got a virus... it's not rabies, is it? Not sort of, um... foaming at the mouth?
[Somehow, that's not entirely reassuring. But at least the rabid one's still away. Maybe this chap's the foaming sort for... When he's shaving his chin? Well, it's always good to work up a lather. Right!]
Can they? Hah! That's... well, that's positively extraordinary! And it turns up as a jumble of this and that being thrown at you? How do they catch things, then? Seems a good chance they've taken up with a cold, but I haven't so much as sneezed around the thing! No one's with me either. I did run into a tallish black bird with one too man arms, though. Haven't really ventured out of the house since then.
He didn't seem like he was waving to say 'what ho!' if you take my meaning.
Why would she do that, though? Hardly seems sporting if it's the only way we've got to communicate. And that beazel - Miss Angel - said she was a nice sort of girl, just limited. Or do you mean you think she's sick? Oh, dear. Poor fish. Maybe we could send well wishes along. Once she's better she can sort out what's what with our gizmos.
[He rather likes that word, 'gizmo.' It sounds doggy, and he'll be keeping it.]
Oh, come, come, my good man! If a girl's stuffed up in an office all day having to watch us pottering about, I'd say that's a fine reason to give her benefit of the doubt.
I'd go mad with that. Hardly able to talk to anyone. Seeing some bird you're starting to like get bowled over by some behemoth. It wounds the heart! I'm sure she'd be doing more if she could. She'll probably snap our whatsits into a solid sort of s. before you can say Robert's your mother's brother once she's feeling better.
The daffy dame might not even be human. She could be an AI, just a jumble of wires and zeros and ones. Even if she isn't, she sure knows more about what's going on than we do and she won't even give us a hint. Not even so much as a "go to the school for food so you don't die!"
We're rats, old son, rats in a maze and that good-for-nothing is in on it.
Oh, pish and tish! That's silly. A girl made out of wires and zeroes and ones? Though, I suppose if that is the case, you could say she's got our number, what? [He chuckles lightly at his own joke.]
Really, though, most women aren't nearly that fiendish. They'll make you twist, but it's only the Stiffy Byngs of this world who'll ask you to get whacked over the head with a cricket bat for their schemes. Even then, it's for a good-ish cause... most of the time. Look, all I'm saying is, I can't really believe there's some doe-eyed sheba plugged into everything who's planned all this out to make us frightfully upset.
This is all probably just some misunderstanding. We'll sort it out once we find wherever Ms. Admin's staying. Everybody can sit down for a nice cuppa and chat it out.
[He's going to believe this is what will happen because the alternative is terrifying.]
Not a bad zinger, pal o'mine but leave the jokes to the professionals mmkay?
[Moving on....]
You go ahead and try to hug it out with the Admin. You know what will happen? I do...
[And it is indeed terrifying, what he imagines. He suspects this other fellow is trying not to think about it so he'll just go ahead and explain it and force him to listen. It's something to do.]
We find our captor's office and there won't be any tea parties. No fond little chats. It will be the end. Game over. The big adios.
She flips the kill switch on this experiment of hers and we all get axed. Maybe gas comes out of the walls. Maybe monsters chase us all down. Maybe something else. Whatever it is there won't be a single one of us left to mourn the whole freaky fiasco when it's over.
[Bertie's about to point out that he's hardly going to go hugging random girls in their offices, but the man goes on. And what he goes on with... Great Scots!]
I say... um. Old boy. You aren't... well, ah. Hmm! I understand you might be feeling a bit glum with everything on like it is. Does put the spirits out a bit to be sans the comforts a man's grown accustomed to, not a teacup or snappy hat or valet in sight! But that's hardly any reason to think the world's going to end in misery and woe.
Life can be delish with a sunny dispoish, as the song goes! Brave heart! We'll pull through without anything wretched like that happening. Trust me. We Woosters are known for our keen clear-whatsit. The bit where you can see off into the brighter future. It's blue skies ahead, you'll see. Winter can hardly last forever. Buck up now, lad! Maybe once we find something hot to eat you'll be singing a different tune, eh?
Are you telling the Joker to cheer up? That's cute.
Listen Norfinbury, in fact the world itself, is a pretty crummy place. I learned this through intimate and inappropriate contact. There's no happy ending!
HAHAH!
At least not if we go chasing down the Administrator like a buncha buffoons. She doesn't seem to like when folks try to steal her secrets.
[A pause.]
Of course it's not all bad, bucko. Who says being simultaneously offed is an ending of misery and woe? If I were the type to care-which I'm not-but if I were I'd say that's a better ending than hanging out in this frozen burg looking for scraps and dodging big nasties for the rest of our lives. If we're gonna die best get it over and done with quick, right? Like yoinking off a band-aid.
Come, come... Joker, old tin! I've been witness to many a happy ending in my day. Well, what some chaps might consider happy, anyway. Tied up in the matrimonial knot, shackled for life to the bright-eyed beazel of their fancy. It's the stuff they write novels about! Why, just before I got here I was seeing a girl and her beau get married - sweethearts since she'd been waist high and looking up at him. [He'd also just come from being chased by the wedding party after a rather nasty twist with the plumbing that was not his fault, but Madeline had decided to take him out of the husbandly scope for life. Win-win! More or less...]
In any case, I really think you ought to reconsider once you've had a cup of tea, or maybe a snack. The brain needs something hot or solid in the tum to ruminate properly. We really must... [Bertie trails off, the whole ruse dawning on him.]
Oh. Oh, I see now. Right, man. Hah! You're called Joker, eh? Dashed morbid bit you've got going, but well-played! Ah! I should've known better when you said to leave it to the professionals. Really, old sport, that is laying it on thick with the pessimism act. But whatever you can do to pep the spirits with birds banging against it, what? Bravo, then! I'm feeling solidly braced.
I can only imagine. Hah! Well, good on, my lad! I'm a bit a card 'round the Drones Club, myself. I don't suppose you've got any of the more standard jokes and whatnot? I heard a real corker from Catsmeat the other day. I mean... the other day before I got here, what?
There was a brilliant man who nobody understood. He was a a genius! But, one day, he was caught. They always are, eventually. See, there were folks dying from licking poisoned stamps so everyone blamed him. Since he'd already killed so many people the boys in blue put him in the hot seat. Once he was secured the chaplain asked him if he had any last requests. "Yes," he replied. "Would you hold my hand?"
[Giggling.]
True story! That's not the punchline though. The punchline is that they never fried his noodle because his sworn adversary saved him.
[Shriek of laughter]
AhHAHAHAHEEHEHOHOhoohaaaahaha-[cough]-sorry. I love that one.
[Bertie's still waiting for a proper punchline. Because at the moment, that seems rather horrifying and tragic rather than funny. Well, he supposes there's some humor in the irony of some vicious chap being whisked away by someone else.]
Er...
[He doesn't want to call into question the Joker's timing, but, well... there's something about that joke that's lacking. Perhaps he ought to demonstrate with with something actually funny.]
Hmm! Hah! That, um... that's a good one, old boy. There's one about the man and the soup I know that's hilarious.
You see, there was an American chappie just come to London on a trip. He decided to try out the best restaurant in town and sat down to the finest table you might imagine. The menu was stuffed full of the ripest sorts of things, but he decided a bowl of soup was just the ticket to start. The waiter brought the thing out to commence, dressed up and looking just an smart as any bird. As he was biffing off, though, our well-to-do diner noticed a snag. Where the waiter had set the bowl down, the table cloth was getting wet, soaking through, really!
'I say,' the diner I-sayed, as you do when you're stuck with it. 'There's a crack in the bowl here, my lad. Look, it's going all soggy.'
[And here it is, Bertie's own punch lined up.]
Without batting an eye, our clever bird of a waiter came right back: 'Oh, that isn't cracked, sir. There's only a leek in the soup!'
[Bertie chuckles, himself, waiting for the Joker to join in.]
Perish the thought, old tin! Lectures are for aunts, police officers, and beaks of the beakiest sorts. Just a tip or two, man-to-man. There's always room to improve, eh?
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snowblindmemes2016-01-16 05:18 pm
@smashingspats; voice
Oh! Oh, I say, old prune, did you get one of those, too? 'Fraid I'm just getting used to all this phoning and wiring without the wires bit. Dashed odd, though, what? I don't think mine came from any sort of prince, either - Nigerian or otherwise.
I don't think I even know anyone in Nigeria. I did meet an African chappie looking for his tribe's statue once. Cursed. Rough business, but it all worked out in the end.
Are you feeling under the weather, though? You don't sound like you've got a virus... it's not rabies, is it? Not sort of, um... foaming at the mouth?
no subject
I'm talking about computer viruses.
These little gizmos of ours can frag out like a person if you infect them with the right kind of data-whacker.
no subject
Can they? Hah! That's... well, that's positively extraordinary! And it turns up as a jumble of this and that being thrown at you? How do they catch things, then? Seems a good chance they've taken up with a cold, but I haven't so much as sneezed around the thing! No one's with me either. I did run into a tallish black bird with one too man arms, though. Haven't really ventured out of the house since then.
He didn't seem like he was waving to say 'what ho!' if you take my meaning.
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But if we got a case of tablet tuberculosis going around I'd place my bets on the Administrator.
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[He rather likes that word, 'gizmo.' It sounds doggy, and he'll be keeping it.]
no subject
no subject
I'd go mad with that. Hardly able to talk to anyone. Seeing some bird you're starting to like get bowled over by some behemoth. It wounds the heart! I'm sure she'd be doing more if she could. She'll probably snap our whatsits into a solid sort of s. before you can say Robert's your mother's brother once she's feeling better.
no subject
We're rats, old son, rats in a maze and that good-for-nothing is in on it.
no subject
Really, though, most women aren't nearly that fiendish. They'll make you twist, but it's only the Stiffy Byngs of this world who'll ask you to get whacked over the head with a cricket bat for their schemes. Even then, it's for a good-ish cause... most of the time. Look, all I'm saying is, I can't really believe there's some doe-eyed sheba plugged into everything who's planned all this out to make us frightfully upset.
This is all probably just some misunderstanding. We'll sort it out once we find wherever Ms. Admin's staying. Everybody can sit down for a nice cuppa and chat it out.
[He's going to believe this is what will happen because the alternative is terrifying.]
no subject
Not a bad zinger, pal o'mine but leave the jokes to the professionals mmkay?
[Moving on....]
You go ahead and try to hug it out with the Admin. You know what will happen? I do...
[And it is indeed terrifying, what he imagines. He suspects this other fellow is trying not to think about it so he'll just go ahead and explain it and force him to listen. It's something to do.]
We find our captor's office and there won't be any tea parties. No fond little chats. It will be the end. Game over. The big adios.
She flips the kill switch on this experiment of hers and we all get axed. Maybe gas comes out of the walls. Maybe monsters chase us all down. Maybe something else. Whatever it is there won't be a single one of us left to mourn the whole freaky fiasco when it's over.
Get me?
no subject
I say... um. Old boy. You aren't... well, ah. Hmm! I understand you might be feeling a bit glum with everything on like it is. Does put the spirits out a bit to be sans the comforts a man's grown accustomed to, not a teacup or snappy hat or valet in sight! But that's hardly any reason to think the world's going to end in misery and woe.
Life can be delish with a sunny dispoish, as the song goes! Brave heart! We'll pull through without anything wretched like that happening. Trust me. We Woosters are known for our keen clear-whatsit. The bit where you can see off into the brighter future. It's blue skies ahead, you'll see. Winter can hardly last forever. Buck up now, lad! Maybe once we find something hot to eat you'll be singing a different tune, eh?
no subject
Listen Norfinbury, in fact the world itself, is a pretty crummy place. I learned this through intimate and inappropriate contact. There's no happy ending!
HAHAH!
At least not if we go chasing down the Administrator like a buncha buffoons. She doesn't seem to like when folks try to steal her secrets.
[A pause.]
Of course it's not all bad, bucko. Who says being simultaneously offed is an ending of misery and woe? If I were the type to care-which I'm not-but if I were I'd say that's a better ending than hanging out in this frozen burg looking for scraps and dodging big nasties for the rest of our lives. If we're gonna die best get it over and done with quick, right? Like yoinking off a band-aid.
no subject
In any case, I really think you ought to reconsider once you've had a cup of tea, or maybe a snack. The brain needs something hot or solid in the tum to ruminate properly. We really must... [Bertie trails off, the whole ruse dawning on him.]
Oh. Oh, I see now. Right, man. Hah! You're called Joker, eh? Dashed morbid bit you've got going, but well-played! Ah! I should've known better when you said to leave it to the professionals. Really, old sport, that is laying it on thick with the pessimism act. But whatever you can do to pep the spirits with birds banging against it, what? Bravo, then! I'm feeling solidly braced.
no subject
That's me, always good for a lark and a boost to the old morale.
Where I'm from I'm always giving folks a smile.
[Whether they want one or not.]
no subject
no subject
Ever heard the one about the old man and the stamps?
no subject
[See now? This is proper fun, trading jokes. Nothing so morbid as what the man had been banging on about before.]
no subject
There was a brilliant man who nobody understood. He was a a genius! But, one day, he was caught. They always are, eventually. See, there were folks dying from licking poisoned stamps so everyone blamed him. Since he'd already killed so many people the boys in blue put him in the hot seat. Once he was secured the chaplain asked him if he had any last requests. "Yes," he replied. "Would you hold my hand?"
[Giggling.]
True story! That's not the punchline though. The punchline is that they never fried his noodle because his sworn adversary saved him.
[Shriek of laughter]
AhHAHAHAHEEHEHOHOhoohaaaahaha-[cough]-sorry. I love that one.
no subject
Er...
[He doesn't want to call into question the Joker's timing, but, well... there's something about that joke that's lacking. Perhaps he ought to demonstrate with with something actually funny.]
Hmm! Hah! That, um... that's a good one, old boy. There's one about the man and the soup I know that's hilarious.
You see, there was an American chappie just come to London on a trip. He decided to try out the best restaurant in town and sat down to the finest table you might imagine. The menu was stuffed full of the ripest sorts of things, but he decided a bowl of soup was just the ticket to start. The waiter brought the thing out to commence, dressed up and looking just an smart as any bird. As he was biffing off, though, our well-to-do diner noticed a snag. Where the waiter had set the bowl down, the table cloth was getting wet, soaking through, really!
'I say,' the diner I-sayed, as you do when you're stuck with it. 'There's a crack in the bowl here, my lad. Look, it's going all soggy.'
[And here it is, Bertie's own punch lined up.]
Without batting an eye, our clever bird of a waiter came right back: 'Oh, that isn't cracked, sir. There's only a leek in the soup!'
[Bertie chuckles, himself, waiting for the Joker to join in.]
no subject
Puns?
Puns are a cheap laugh. Where is the innovation? Where's the artistry?
no subject
Oh, I don't know. A clever play on words? English is a marvelous sort of language for that, what?
no subject
[Wait a minute...
There is a pause and when he speaks again his voice has an ominous growl to it.]
Wait a dang minute, you aren't trying to lecture me in comedy, are ya? ME? THE JOKER?
no subject
Perish the thought, old tin! Lectures are for aunts, police officers, and beaks of the beakiest sorts. Just a tip or two, man-to-man. There's always room to improve, eh?
no subject
[There is a loud metallic slam, like someone just struck a wall with a firepoker.
He's screaming now.]
You don't get to give tips to me! My comedy is an art! It's evolved! I AM A MASTER OF MY CRAFT!
no subject
Ahah! Hah... I s-suppose a chappie named 'Joker' would know best. I'll just, um... leave you to it, then. Tinkerty tonk!
[He's hanging up now... and might avoid picking up in the first place, in future.]