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: WAKEY WAKEY You're drawn out of your slumber when your tablet emits an earsplitting SCREECH. No amount of shaking it or hitting it will get it to shut up for five whole minutes, but at the very end it cuts itself off what sounds like a piercing scream. Well, that was weird. Maybe you should check in on the network - someone might have an idea of what that was. Or maybe they'll be just as lost as you are. At least you can all be confused together...
TWO: DON'T LET THE BEDBUGS BITE... It's past curfew, and you've been locked in for the night. But for some reason, you just can't manage to get to sleep. Nightmares giving you grief? General insomnia problems? Well, at least you've got the network to keep you company. Maybe you can get someone to tell you a bedtime story.
Action Prompts
THREE: INCONVENIENCE STORE Congratulations, you've managed to stumble upon the Mallard River Market! But you're not alone. Among the shelves of junk food (just as well-stocked as you would expect from any normal store) you'll find one - or more! - other people there with you. Here's hoping you're not both after the same box of Frosted Toaster Pastries, because things could get ugly fast. Don't linger too long, either; at 7PM, you'll be compelled to leave whether you want to or not and will only have about an hour to find somewhere to take shelter...
FOUR: RUN RUN RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN It's late. It's cold. There's a bunch of snow around you and you can sort of make out vague shapes in the distance that might be buildings, but in these conditions it's hard to tell. Regardless of what they are, though, you're going to want to hustle - if it hits 8PM and you're still outside, you're not going to make it through the night. Perhaps that person up ahead can help you? Or - if you're already safe and sound - maybe you should head outside to get that poor soul struggling outside in to shelter before they freeze. Good luck!
[A doctor, huh? That really is a comfort. Armin passed his first aid lectures with flying colours --though, of course, much like the majority of things he was actually good at, those lectures had contributed very little to his overall abysmal scores-- but he has no illusions about being a good physician. He knows how to bandage up a wound, create a splint if necessary and how to apply a tourniquet to a torn off limb, but beyond that, his medical knowledge is a well that quickly runs dry.
When the first cabins at the edge of town start coming into view against the darkening sky, Armin drops all pretence of conversation and instead redoubles his efforts to get there. At this point, he really isn't picky about what sort of dwelling they end up in, as long as it got four walls and a roof to shield them from the snow and wind. Anything beyond that is bonus.
When they finally make it to the nearest cabin, Armin carefully ducks out from under her hand to force open the door. It takes him three attempts and a few good shoves of his shoulders --and he tries not to dwell on the thought that anyone else from the 104th probably could've gotten it open in one go-- before the door scrapes open, leaving a long clear trail on the dust that lies on the cabin floor. The place smells disused, dusty, and there are no immediate signs of life.]
It's better than nothing. Come on, let's get inside.
[She isn't thrown by the state of the cabin- not after having hidden in old St. Lewis, and in a world devastated by the war between the Votans and the humans there are a lot of abandoned houses. She brushes the snow off her coat and stomps her boots, and then finally pulls off her hat to slap it against her thigh to shake the snow off.]
[It's frugal, too. She doesn't even know if there will be food, but if the snow lets up in the morning they might be alright. The kitchen seems to be barren, and no refrigerator to be seen (though that doesn't say much, because surely that food would be spoiled).]
[There's a chair with a sheet over it, and she goes over to that and plops into it without pulling off the fabric. She looks dryly at Armin, her scaled face appearing exhausted for all that it barely expressed emotion, and she replaced her hat on her snake-patterned head.]
You can call me Doctor Yewll by the way. Or Doc. Most people do.
[Armin honestly doesn't even catch her words at first. Now they are inside and with her furry hat off, it becomes startlingly obvious that she is... well, honestly, he is not sure what she is, but not human for sure. His eyes track over her odd pattern bald scalp, the ears that are practically part of the sides of her head, her dark lips. Even her eyes are different, he realises, her irises hexagonal rather than rounded.
Oh wait, she is staring at him, probably expecting him to say something.]
Ah, I'm sorry, i didn't--
[Boy just saw his first alien, you'll have to forgive him, ma'am.]
[It takes her a moment to realize why he's looking at her like that. Where she's from, humans and Votans interact so often that the idea of a human not knowing what she is takes a bit to run through even her unusually quick perception.]
[She remains settled in the chair in a lazy slump.] I'm an Indogene. Don't worry about it, kid. I don't bite.
That said, lets hope there's at least a few cans of something in there.
[But she doesn't want to get up yet. Her legs are cold and tired and her muscles ache. Her scaled face feels blasted from the cold, and she actually touches it to make sure it's not blistering as it had at Camp Reverie.]
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snowblindmemes2015-06-23 03:54 pm
no subject
[And she was a pretty good one, if she did say so herself. Which she often did.]
So lets hope that mountain training does you some real good. [At least it doesn't look any more than a few minutes away. She thinks. She hopes.]
no subject
[A doctor, huh? That really is a comfort. Armin passed his first aid lectures with flying colours --though, of course, much like the majority of things he was actually good at, those lectures had contributed very little to his overall abysmal scores-- but he has no illusions about being a good physician. He knows how to bandage up a wound, create a splint if necessary and how to apply a tourniquet to a torn off limb, but beyond that, his medical knowledge is a well that quickly runs dry.
When the first cabins at the edge of town start coming into view against the darkening sky, Armin drops all pretence of conversation and instead redoubles his efforts to get there. At this point, he really isn't picky about what sort of dwelling they end up in, as long as it got four walls and a roof to shield them from the snow and wind. Anything beyond that is bonus.
When they finally make it to the nearest cabin, Armin carefully ducks out from under her hand to force open the door. It takes him three attempts and a few good shoves of his shoulders --and he tries not to dwell on the thought that anyone else from the 104th probably could've gotten it open in one go-- before the door scrapes open, leaving a long clear trail on the dust that lies on the cabin floor. The place smells disused, dusty, and there are no immediate signs of life.]
I think... it's probably abandoned.
no subject
[She isn't thrown by the state of the cabin- not after having hidden in old St. Lewis, and in a world devastated by the war between the Votans and the humans there are a lot of abandoned houses. She brushes the snow off her coat and stomps her boots, and then finally pulls off her hat to slap it against her thigh to shake the snow off.]
[It's frugal, too. She doesn't even know if there will be food, but if the snow lets up in the morning they might be alright. The kitchen seems to be barren, and no refrigerator to be seen (though that doesn't say much, because surely that food would be spoiled).]
[There's a chair with a sheet over it, and she goes over to that and plops into it without pulling off the fabric. She looks dryly at Armin, her scaled face appearing exhausted for all that it barely expressed emotion, and she replaced her hat on her snake-patterned head.]
You can call me Doctor Yewll by the way. Or Doc. Most people do.
no subject
Oh wait, she is staring at him, probably expecting him to say something.]
Ah, I'm sorry, i didn't--
[Boy just saw his first alien, you'll have to forgive him, ma'am.]
no subject
[She remains settled in the chair in a lazy slump.] I'm an Indogene. Don't worry about it, kid. I don't bite.
That said, lets hope there's at least a few cans of something in there.
[But she doesn't want to get up yet. Her legs are cold and tired and her muscles ache. Her scaled face feels blasted from the cold, and she actually touches it to make sure it's not blistering as it had at Camp Reverie.]